


Turning and Turning

by BetanSurvey (Scedasticity)



Series: Mere Anarchy [5]
Category: Farscape
Genre: F/M, Future Fic, Gen, Not comics compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-21
Packaged: 2017-11-23 06:21:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 14
Words: 40,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/619035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scedasticity/pseuds/BetanSurvey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is always someone who will make the situation worse (and some hostages are useful, but some are just a really bad idea).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: In the Fields and In the Streets

**Author's Note:**

> This story is complete, but the later chapters especially need some polishing, so it may be a while before I get the whole thing posted.

_She was in her apartment in Urban Center #193, roasting a degrol over an open fire. Sitting around the table were Varla, Noranti, three Vorcs, and a pair of Nebari children who might be her and Nerri. D'Argo was trying to use his Qualta Blade to carve the degrol, even though she wasn't sure it was done yet. "No, the flowers!" she told him. "The *flowers*!" There was a crash. Someone had knocked all the plates off the table, and they'd shattered like Earth porcelain. She glared at her child-self, busy stuffing her face with candy. "Put that back." The child-self just grinned at her. Angrily she raised her ladle--_

"Chiana!" someone yelled, and the dream popped like a soap bubble. Just as well.

She sat up, remembering just in time to duck her head so she didn't hit it on the upper bunk, and threw aside her blankets. Using her bad arm, frell it, ouch. "Rossi? What is it?"

"A ship just landed outside, and all these *aliens* got off it--"

//Luxans?// "What kind of aliens?" //Help, at last?//

"How should I know, I've never--"

Pulse fire and screams from outside answered *that* question. Chiana grabbed her pulse pistol and ran out of the glebe-dorm as some of the others -- noncombatants -- ran in, yelling. Outside, she saw a small, battered-looking ship, and Zenetans. Palma and Vieri were already out there, shooting, but there wasn't much cover, and unless they got some help, the Zenetans were going to... stand there gaping at her?

Oh, right, she hadn't stopped to put any clothes on.

Well, never let it be said that she didn't take her advantages where she found them. She'd become quite the pinpoint shot during her cycles in the Resistance, and she took out five out of eight Zenetans before they realized what she was doing. That left one each for her, Palma, and Vieri, and the problem was taken care of.

"Are there any others?" Chiana asked in the sudden silence, pulse pistol still held at the ready.

"That's all the ones that came off the ship," Palma replied. "They didn't start shooting until they saw I had a weapon, but they started hitting people right away. What *are* they?"

"Zenetan pirates," Chiana said, looking down at them. "Zenetans, anyway. Probably pirates. What are our casualties?"

Vieri waved at a few people on the ground. "They shot one of our guests from the blinear-glebe, and Ruber," he said quietly. "Ruber's still alive, I think. Beyond that... our pretense that we were just ordinary citizens?"

Chiana looked around. Yeah, the people from the next glebe over were staring at them, wide-eyed. //Frell.// "Okay, uh... you talk to them, Vieri. I'm going to go get dressed."

#####

Sikozu ignored the man standing in the doorway of her office until he cleared his throat. She looked up from her stack of flimsies and raised her eyebrows. "Did you need something?"

Evek Eshtan Erranet Ekru Egenek met her mild inquiry with a scowl. The nominal leader of the Kalish presence on Nebari Prime had started off on a sour note by referring to her as "the deserter" when she was standing directly behind him. He hadn't taken it well when she'd suggested that he was rather far away from the struggle himself, and how was the looting going for him? Since then -- well, it hadn't gotten any worse. "I have a meeting with the Luxans. As long as I was here, I thought I'd stop by to discuss something... odd... we found, over on the medium-continent yesterday."

She studied him for a microt, and turned the attitude down a few notches. "All right. What did you find?"

"A local Constabulary branch, with a lot of bodies in it. *Recent* bodies, probably not there two days before we found them. Most of them killed by pulse fire, though a few were stabbed."

"I see," Sikozu said slowly. Random violence was not rare, right now, though most Nebari seemed to be focusing on survival. "What else?"

"They were split about half and half between bodies in uniform -- mostly military, some might have been Constabulary -- and bodies in civilian clothes. The stabbed corpses were all military." Evek smiled sardonically. "Most of the bodies were between the back door and the Constabulary branch's armory. Which was emptied."

"Of course it was," Sikozu muttered.

"So, Shanu, what do you think? More random violence on anarchic Nebari Prime?"

"Funny, Egenek. If you thought that, you wouldn't have brought it to me," she retorted. "We both know it looks like the Establishment and the Resistance both went for the armory, and one of them got it. Any idea which?"

He sighed. "No. But I don't think it much matters, does it?"

"No, probably not." She paused. "Unless you think knowing which will give you warning about what tactics to expect when they come back with their new armory."

"Frell you, Shanu."

"I'm sure you'll do better than those Sheyang. You heard about that?"

"Yeah. You find out who did it?"

"Not my job. And since the explosion brought the roof down, the immediate culprits are probably dead already." She rolled her eyes. //Idiots shot three Sheyang in an enclosed space. They certainly *should* be dead.// "The Sheyang aren't the only ones."

"To explode?"

"No, to have run into trouble with armed local Nebari. The Luxans encountered street barricades, and just barely managed to restrain their innate impulse to charge them." She flipped to another flimsy. "Interions were shot at attempting to approach a building, one death." Another. "A bomb went off in the Nebari refugee camp next to Heptar base camp. Attacking the collaborators, I assume. And of course there's the Royal Sebacean debacle."

"Frelling planet's getting less pacified every frelling day," Evek said, frowning. "Is it this bad everywhere?"

"Not on the planets annexed by the Peacekeepers and Scarrans -- at least, not yet."

"So we should be cracking down harder, then?"

"They'd just take off into one of the unclaimed areas, and sneak back later. But you do what you think you need to."

What *she* needed to do was talk to the people who were actually in charge of this mess. So far, though, they hadn't exactly been queuing up to volunteer for interviews.

#####

It really was unspeakably unfair that the world had ended, and he was *still* stuck in deep cover. When the Transmission had first ripped through the patrol cruiser, rendering almost the entire crew insane, Meelok had hoped that this -- whatever-it-was -- would bring the Establishment to its knees, once and for all, and he could go home. It hadn't, at least not permanently. The Establishment was devastated, yes, crippled, yes, maybe even on the same level as the Resistance, yes, but it was still viable. The mission wasn't over. He'd thought about taking off regardless after the few remaining sane people from the cruiser made it down to the surface. (They'd decompressed the ship as they left, killing the rest of the crew. It wouldn't do to have an armed ship of the insane, after all. He'd wanted to be outraged at the Establishment's casual destruction of so much life, but the most he could muster was a sort of dull hope they hadn't missed anyone unaffected by the Transmission.) They'd never have been able to trace him, the way things were. In the end, duty won out, and he stayed.

And now, appallingly enough, he found himself agreeing with his Establishment commander: all these aliens had no business moving in and taking over. Something had to be done.


	2. Domino

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter One: Domino, wherein everyone becomes rather upset, with some reason.

It was Treatment Outreach Excursion Number Umpty-Seven, and Zhaan should have been getting ready to treat the burn victims, not staring at her equipment box and sneaking glances at the prospective patients. Something was... off. Something in the way they moved, the way they were watching... //Call me paranoid, but...// Abandoning the box, she walked over to Baben and crouched down to peer into the transfusion cooler. "We should leave," she whispered.

Baben turned to frown at her. "What? We just got here."

//No, no, don't say that out loud!// "I'm sure it was here somewhere," she said in a normal tone of voice, trying to sound aggrieved, then dropped back to a whisper. "Ssshhh! We should leave. They're planning something."

"Like what?" Baben still looked very skeptical, but at least he was being quiet.

"I don't know, something. Look at them. No kids, no elderly. And they're too calm. Or too nervous. Or something."

"They can't be too calm *and* too nervous, Zhaan."

"Sure they can," she muttered, but Baben had found the blood type he was looking for and was moving away. "Dammit." Now the back of her neck was itching. Frell, who could she get to believe her...

Tacer the Fahrbot Orderly was suddenly at her shoulder, wearing a large, dopey, and patently false smile. "Carrying concealed I can understand, given the circumstances, but the pulse rifle under the blankets on the stretcher is a little odd."

She went cold. "Don't tell me, tell Baben. We need to get out of here."

"Got it."

Zhaan looked around anxiously. They were already spread out all over, and there were Nebari -- *local* Nebari -- leaning on the hadesopter, oh-so-casually. //We're frelled.// And then she accidentally met the eyes of one of the men by the hadesopter. //Dren. He knows I know.//

And without any signal that she could see, suddenly there were guns everywhere. "Put your hands on your heads," one of the locals ordered.

Baben gaped. "What-- Why--"

//Told you so,// Zhaan thought glumly. She might be able to get her gun out without being noticed, but--

Tacer laid out one of their would-be captors with a single punch, kicked another in the knee, and took out a third with a backhand. He actually had a gun and was bringing it up to aim at the spokesman when one of the Nebari finally had the presence of mind to shoot him. He dropped like a rock.

"Hands on your heads!" the local ordered again. "On your knees!"

Zhaan obeyed, feeling sick. She was torn between watching the guns and watching her comrades. The others had knelt, too, which was good. She didn't think the Nebari were bluffing. //The question is, what *are* they going to do?//

"Search them," ordered Talking Guy. Some -- not all, dammit -- of his flunkies hurried to obey. One of them warily kicked the gun away from Tacer, who she saw was still alive. He'd curled up, had a hand pressed to the wound in his chest, and was panting softly. He seemed to be watching the action, which had to be a good sign.

She was distracted by the man searching her, who smirked and took the opportunity to cop a feel before realizing she had a gunbelt under her Eleemosynary smock. "You Sebacean bitch!" he snarled, and backhanded her, hard.

//What? Why? Because I'm armed?// She kept her eyes forward and her mouth shut, even when Grabby Guy ripped open her smock to get to the gunbelt. Three cheers for tank tops.

"Frelling Sebaceans," he said, and swung her own gun at her face. Everything went black.

###

She woke up slowly, gummy-mouthed and dazed. It was dark. They were moving. And her hands were tied -- no, cuffed -- in front of her.

"Zhaan?" someone said solicitously. "I think she's coming around."

She groaned confirmation and tried to push herself up, only to sway dizzily and end up lying on her side. "Where are we? Why is it so dark?"

"We're in the back of a ground vehicle." Nach, that was Nach, her fellow intern. "No windows. Do you remember what happened?"

"Ambushed." Zhaan tried again, and this time managed to prop herself up on the side wall of the vehicle. "Who...?"

"Beyond Nebari, I couldn't say."

"No, I meant... I meant who's here. Who else got snatched."

Nach sighed. "They left Baben with -- I think with a list of demands. And they killed Massik."

"Frell." Massik was their hadesopter pilot -- a Nebari volunteer, who'd come to the Eleemosynaries with an injured friend, and stayed to help. "What'd they do that for?"

"He challenged them. Asked what they thought they were doing. They called him a collaborator. They were really rough on Fedele, Agnola, and Gervis, too -- beat them unconscious -- they're all still out."

The rest of their Nebari volunteers. Which left one Nebari in their group, an actual Eleemosynary-- "What about Renyr?"

"Better off than you are," Renyr himself said, not very far away. "*Nach* told them I was foreign-born."

"You'd rather they'd beaten you up, too?" Nach retorted, without much heat. It sounded like they'd gone over the subject a few times already.

"Orek?" Zhaan asked, before they could get into it again. "And T-- and the Fahrbot Orderly?"

"Both here," Orek said. "I think he passed out when they threw us in here, but he's breathing."

"Breathing steadily," Renyr added, evidently not wanting to let an orderly have the last word on a medical matter. "Pulse seems all right. Although now that it comes up I don't actually know what species he is--"

"Nothing we can do about it right now," Nach interrupted. "So, yes, eight of us." She paused, and muttered, "I can't believe this is happening."

"You're telling me?" Orek said. "I'm a Banik orderly, who the frell would want to kidnap me?"

"You think a Banik intern is any likelier a target?"

Zhaan grimaced in the darkness. //Whereas *I* am a *much* likelier target.// Though if they'd been after Zhaan Sun Crichton, they'd have known she wasn't Sebacean, wouldn't they? And probably been a bit more careful not to hurt her over something stupid like wearing a gunbelt. So it probably wasn't about her.

Which was actually rather unfortunate since now she had no idea what they were after or how they planned to get it...

#####

Sikozu was at first neither surprised nor concerned when she heard something was going on at the Eleemosynary encampment. It was a busy place. Four arns and five ignored comm calls later, however, she decided it might be time to pay them a visit.

The minute she walked into the building (through a window, thanks to the continued flooding), she knew something was wrong. There was more tension in the air than they'd had since they landed. There was a lot of whispering going on, among both Eleemosynaries and patients. Healer Tash was nowhere in sight. Sikozu made eye contact with her Nebari aide, Colosa, and jerked her head towards the nearest group of patients. "See if they know what's going on."

Colosa returned almost immediately. "A mobile treatment group didn't come back on schedule and wasn't in touch. Word is Healer Tash talked to *somebody*, but that most of the group is still missing. *Possibly* captured by Nebari."

Sikozu grimaced. //Which Nebari?// Like the ransacked Constabulary armory, it probably didn't matter. At least this was the *Eleemosynaries*, who were unlikely to retaliate by destroying additional urban areas when it ended badly. She didn't doubt it would end badly. These things generally did. "All right. I'm going to find Healer Tash."

She'd visited the Eleemosynaries a number of times, and never before had she found Tash's office door closed. Not locked, though, so she cleared her throat and walked in. Tash's desk was occupied by Heliotaney, the Eleemosynaries' Interion computer specialist. Tash was slumped back in the second chair, staring blankly at a dirty sheaf of flimsies.

"Commerce planet Blarp..." Heliotaney was muttering. "Administration, Bilin processing plant... attention Arnita late of Nebari..."

"Tash?" Sikozu said after a few microts of silence.

The Banik woman looked up. "Sikozu. Good. I need to give you these." She handed over the flimsies. "They're demands, but so far as I can tell, none of them are actually about *us*. I expect you can at least direct them to the proper recipients."

Sikozu took the flimsies, but shook her head. "No one is going to modify their behavior because some medics have been kidnapped. It only encourages hostage-taking, and anyway, Eleemosynaries--" Eleemosynaries weren't of interest to any government except Nron, which probably wasn't the real target of any demands, either.

"Commerce planet Shonveh... Local Jurisdate... to be sent on to Commander Lashan Estaver..." Heliotaney stopped, frowning. "Isn't Shonveh an--"

"Yes, but never mind that," Tash told her.

"I had no idea. All this time I thought he was just fond of tattoos."

It sounded like Heliotaney was encoding addresses. "You're informing their families?" Sikozu guessed. "I suggest you tell them to prepare for the worst, because I don't believe anyone here has both the resources and the motivation to go rescue them. Everyone will be very disapproving, I'm sure, but your security is your own problem."

Tash glared. "You think I don't know that? I'm not expecting you to work miracles, Shanu, just pass that information along."

"Leviathan Moya--"

Sikozu dropped the flimsies. "No. *No*. *Tell* me Zhaan Sun Crichton has not been kidnapped."

"I'd be lying if I did," Tash replied evenly.

//This is not happening. This is not happening.// "This is not happening," she muttered aloud. "You haven't sent that yet--? Good. Don't."

"Don't?" the Interion echoed.

"Don't. I'll pass the demands along and see what I can do, but I need you not to inform Crichton and Sun."

"Out of the question," Tash said. "I'd inform them even if I weren't informing all the families."

"Tash, allow me to explain something. This situation is already extremely volatile. Bringing *them* in is like setting up a shooting gallery in a missile factory -- an *invitation* to further disaster."

The Banik regarded her for a long moment, then said, "Tough."

"Tash, will you give me *something*, please! I'm the one who'll have to present all these stupid demands!"

"Yes. I won't tell them you told me not to tell them."

"Thank you so *very* much," Sikozu growled, and left the office in a huff. Frelling Eleemosynaries! //Some backup would *really* be appreciated about now.// And what was she going to put in her report about *this*?

#####

"Zhaan, wake up," an insistent voice said in her ear. "Come on, wake up."

She groaned. "I don't think it's been two arns since the last time you woke me. And I'm fine."

"Good for you," Renyr returned. He whispered, "Fedele's awake and in a lot of pain. We want a third opinion."

She didn't point out that there wasn't really anything they could do, regardless. Renyr had probably realized that. "'Kay." She scooted across the compartment, feeling her way with her cuffed hands. "We still moving, or is my head swimming?"

"Still moving," Nach answered. "Over here."

Nach caught her hands -- Nach wasn't cuffed, she noted in passing -- and guided them to someone's distended abdomen. Presumably Fedele's. //All right, this isn't good. Not as bad as it would be in a Sebacean, though.// "How you doing, Fedele?"

"Awful," Fedele grated. "What's the prognosis?"

"Not yet, Fedele, we need to whisper insecurely to each other first," Nach said. "We're just interns, you know."

They scooted back across the compartment. "Am I the only one cuffed?" Zhaan complained.

"You were the only one armed," Renyr said. "What was up with that, anyway?"

"The pulse pistol?" She shrugged awkwardly. "My mom gave it to me. I promised I'd keep it close. You never know when something will happen... not that it did much good, in the event..."

"Huh." He still sounded dubious.

"Renyr, I *told* you my mom's a former Peacekeeper."

"Oh, right."

Nach cleared her throat. "You two? Patient?"

"Well, it isn't a good sign," Zhaan said softly, "but if I'm remembering right in Nebari that can go down by itself, can't it? The whole resilient abdomen thing."

"Resilient, not indestructible," Renyr whispered back. "Swelling like that is *bad*."

"I know, I just think we should give him a chance to improve on his own before we ask our kidnappers for surgical supplies for a 'collaborator'." Zhaan scowled into the darkness. "Assuming they even brought the surgical supplies. Best thing we can do is keep our heads down."

"Zhaan's right about that," Nach put in. "But you're the expert on Nebari, Renyr -- can Fedele afford it?"

There was a long pause, then Renyr sighed. "I think so. He's in a lot of pain, though."

Zhaan winced. "Maybe we should ask him? What he wants to do, I mean?"

"He'll say not to ask for help," Renyr said, with certainty. "But I guess that would be the best thing to do -- ask, I mean."

They scooted back over to Fedele, Zhaan falling behind due to her cuffs. She leaned on the side of the compartment and let Nach and Renyr do the talking. //I can't help but feel like we're rearranging the deck chairs on the ~Zelbinion~. That's really a very odd expression.// She tried to picture Durka on a deck chair, and failed. //Maybe it made more sense before Dad adapted it.//

"Zhaan? You awake?"

"Yeah, just... thinking." She shifted. "Has this ever happened before, do you know, Nach? Eleemosynaries getting kidnapped?"

"Not that I ever heard of. I never thought anyone would want to." Nach sighed. "Tash will probably call in the Stykera for advice, and negotiations."

//Yes, and if Uncle Stark comes, for *sure* my parents will be informed. Frell.// She'd been trying not to think about her parents' likely reaction to... the current situation. //They're going to go *fahrbot*. They won't let me off Moya until I'm forty. If then. And Pax will gloat.//

#####

Their first inclination, of course, had been to drop everything, leave dinner uneaten on the table, and go tearing off to Nebari Prime. But Dee had pointed out that given how Pax had reacted to the Nebari situation in general, it would probably be best to bring her this news in person, and she'd take it better from a parent given that she was still pissed at Dee, so could they stop by the Institute before they left, *please*...? Dee and Ksenia could get the transport pod prepped for them...

At Moya's top speeds, they still wouldn't make it to Nebari Prime for several days. A few hours to make sure Pax was okay was... reasonable.

Pax took the news badly, producing a hysterical series of worst-case-scenarios that John tried not to listen to -- he was doing fine with those on his own. Once Aeryn snapped her out of that by the simple measure of dumping a glass of water on her head, she insisted on going with them to Nebari Prime.

"I don't have to run around with you guys, I can sit in the Eleemosynary camp, or just keep Pilot company, but I need to be there! I'm never going to be able to study with Zee missing, anyway!"

The suggestion that she could go stay with Dee and Ksenia (again) was immediately and flatly rejected, so they finally agreed. They waited while Pax called her tutor to explain a serious family emergency and discuss whether to take an emergency leave or go back to the distance curriculum. Then she had to pack, a process which John and Aeryn attempted to expedite with middling success. Then, *finally*, they hired transport back to Freetown, and the transport pod, where they'd say goodbye to Dee and Ksenia.

Except that the transport pod's cargo area was full of bags, boxes, and cases, and Dee was just setting up Ry's safety seat. "Ksenia'll be here in just a microt," he announced as they came in. "She's putting the light atmospheric in storage."

"Granda! Granma! Paksssss!" Ry said cheerfully. He was balanced on the pilot's bench, holding Gruff the Razor-Toothed Vorlag Or Something. "Moya! Trip! See Pilot!"

"You could have said you wanted to come," Aeryn said.

"Didn't want to waste time arguing about whether there was time for us to put some stuff in storage and move the rest here," Dee replied briskly. "There was, obviously."

Thanks to Pax. Who now that John thought of it looked very unsurprised... //Surely they didn't.// It would have been easy, though -- a call to Pax, mentioning nonspecific bad news and asking her to stall... and she'd been so definite that staying with Dee and Ksenia wasn't an option.... //Naaahhhh.//

Ksenia appeared in the hatch. "Right, I'm here. Did the exit traj log all right?"

"Yes, for what it's worth," Dee replied. "Nobody logs their trajectories except Flight Academy students. And graduates. Pax's stuff stowed?"

"*Yes*, Dee." Pax leaned on the wall. "Shall we go, then?"

Aeryn nodded. "Yes. I'll fly."

#####

There were crop fields as far as the eye could see, broken only by laborers and handcarts -- and the ship that had brought them here. Stark almost imagined he could hear the spirit of the planet itself, grumbling quietly about the monotony of the vegetation.

"And we haven't had any complaints or unrest until now, and it's only rumors, but any disruption at this point in the growing season would be disastrous, absolutely disastrous, so we're hoping we can work with the laborers to make sure everyone is satisfied, and there is no disruption of the work. We have a very good relationship with our labor force..."

//With your slaves,// Stark thought. //Changing the word you use does not change the facts.// But the Heptars had shown some flexibility, in at least seeking a compromise, and he could try to honor that. //Now if this... bureaucrat would only be quiet and let me speak to the *Baniks*...//

He waited a while longer, but when the monologue *still* showed no signs of ending, he was forced to interrupt. "Thank you for escorting me out here. I'll speak to the laborers now."

Stark found the laborers unsurprised by his arrival; another uncanny rumor mill at work. They were overworked, undercompensated, and in general deprived. They also reported that the Heptars got *ridiculous* about anyone stopping work for even a few microts. But the conditions were relatively comfortable -- better than many miners, at least -- and the Heptars didn't concern themselves with what their laborers did when they weren't in the fields.

//I can work with this,// he thought. Especially with the Heptars spooked about the mere possibility of interruption of the work. There was space here to work up to liberation gently, bloodlessly.

"Stykera?"

The bureaucrat was back. "What is it?" he asked, forcing patience.

"Someone from Nron is on the comm and wants to speak to you. They say it's very urgent."

Uh-oh. He excused himself as quickly as possible and returned to the ship.

Five hundred microts later, he had made his excuses to the Baniks and the bureaucrats, and was on his way to rendezvous with the courier ship Nron was sending for him. There was no time to waste.


	3. No Negotiation with Terrorists

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2: No Negotiation With Terrorists, in which Sikozu is very frustrated and Zhaan discovers a dislike of farming.

She was going to go to the Hynerians first, since their commander, at least, probably know perfectly well that Zhaan Sun Crichton was on the planet, and should be willing to take steps to keep her safe. But upon perusing the demands, she found that none of them were aimed at the Hynerians.

"What the frell?" Sikozu muttered. "They're all over your waterways, doing who knows what in your oceans, and you don't even *mention* them? What, are they too short, because you're unable to bend your stiff necks to look down?"

"Sikozu?" Colosa said.

"I'm talking to myself. Never mind."

#####

The vehicle stopped.

Zhaan struggled upright. "Everybody! Wake up! We've stopped!"

"Just when I got to sleep," Orek muttered. "Where do you suppose we are?"

Then they were all blinded as the compartment doors opened. Zhaan squinted, trying desperately to get a look at the scenery, but all she saw was light. //Probably doesn't matter. I doubt I'd recognize it anyway, unless they just drove us back to base.//

"Everybody out!" someone ordered. It might have been one of their original captors, or it might not, she wasn't sure. "I said, everyone out!"

"We're not all conscious," Nach replied, more sharply than recommended in the Kidnappee's Handbook.

Zhaan crawled to the opening after a gray and blue blob that was probably Renyr. Her eyes were streaming, and when she slid out of the vehicle, her knees buckled and she ended up on the ground. Dirt, not pavement. She got up as quickly as she could, clinging to the vehicle for support.

As her vision cleared, she saw Renyr and Orek beside her, both looking unhurt. Agnola was on her feet, too, though her face was mottled with blue-black bruises. Tacer was leaning on the vehicle, his other arm curled around his ribcage. He was breathing fast and shallowly, but looked better than he had before she'd been knocked out.

They were surrounded by -- she counted quickly -- seven Nebari, all armed, though only four weapons were actually pointed at them. More weren't needed, it wasn't like they could make a break for it.

Nach was still in the vehicle, sitting with Gervis and Fedele. "We need some help," she said.

//Dammit, Nach, you didn't have to do that alone!// Or, actually-- Orek could get Gervis himself, Nach, Zhaan, Renyr between them should be able to get Fedele-- "I think we can do it, Nach," she said softly. "If it's not too far--" //It won't be far at all if they're going to shoot us.// Cheerful thought.

Nach made a face at her. Maybe she'd wanted to see if their captors could be pushed. Oops. Well, too late now.

#####

The obvious place to try next was the Luxans, who *did* have some demands addressed to them. They were ordered to abandon and avoid the munitions plant in Urban Area #231. Sikozu hadn't even been aware the Luxans had *found* a munitions plant, far less taken hold so much that they could be told to abandon it. At least hopefully they hadn't occupied more than one plant, because no one but the Nebari could (or tried to) keep the Urban Area numbers straight.

At Luxan base camp, she asked after Kleevah Ka Jothee, and was told he was expected back soon. Fortunately Jothee had frequently been assigned to deal with her by his superiors, so it didn't arouse any suspicions. //Though the word will have to spread soon enough if he's actually going to do anything about it.//

Colosa called her twice while she was waiting at the Luxan camp: the first time to report that there had been a broad-transmission signal from someone claiming to represent the Establishment, asserting that the Resistance was behind the Collapse, the second -- half an arn later -- to report that there had been a broad-transmission signal from someone claiming to represent the Resistance, asserting that the Establishment was behind the Collapse. Sikozu told her to call back when she knew which version most people were believing.

Finally, Jothee got back. Sikozu collared him immediately, and hauled him away from the others in his scouting party.

"Zhaan Sun Crichton's been kidnapped," she said, without preamble. "By Nebari. They don't know who they have, just a group of Eleemosynaries. These are the demands aimed at Luxans. I need you to try to get your commanding officers to -- to *go along* until this is resolved, and ideally send a rescue patrol."

Jothee stared at her. "What?"

She sighed, and started again.

#####

Orek could, in fact, carry Gervis by himself, and Agnola pitched in to help keep Fedele's back straight, making four to carry him. Probably in deference to her head injury, Zhaan got to be the person walking forwards on the Fedele-carrying team. It didn't leave much of a chance to look around, but she saw a definite absence of buildings.

"We're out on a gleben," Agnola whispered. "I've been to one, for labor service--"

"Quiet!" one of the armed Nebari barked.

//Gleben? Oh, right, an agricultural area. Wonder what happened to the people running it?//

Their captors directed them to a several-story building with what appeared to be a pair of towers, of all things. The inside was dim, and full of crates. Tacer ran into one and went sprawling. He didn't cry out when he landed, only gave a little hiccuping gasp, and got slowly back to his feet, face white under the colored stripes. Several of their captors laughed.

//It's not funny,// Zhaan thought silently, furiously. //It's not the least bit funny, you drannit-spawned barbarians.//

Then there were stairs. They managed to make it up with only minor mishaps, no thanks to the Nebari. She was developing a particular dislike for two she dubbed Pushy and Giggly, for obvious reasons. Giggly sounded not so much silly as on the verge of insanity. Pushy... well, yeah.

The stairs had a number of landings -- they seemed to be going up the side of a tower. Why the tower didn't have interior stairs, she couldn't imagine. They finally stopped on one landing, and Talking Guy yanked open a door. "In there," he ordered.

Orek, in the lead, balked. "What the-- You want us to throw the wounded down into that?"

//What? Oh, frell, I missed something, didn't I.// "What's going on?" she whispered.

Agnola winced. "It's a silo."

//Silo, silo, I've heard of that... Agriculture thing. Um...//

"They store grain in it?" Agnola added helpfully.

"Quiet!"

//Oh, *those* silos.// Wait a minute -- silos didn't have multiple levels, did they...? //That would by why Orek's upset. Dren.//

"Get in there!" Pushy yelled. Apparently Orek had noticed Pushy's temperament, too, because he quickly leaned over and released Gervis, then stepped off himself before he could be shoved.

"It's not too far!" he yelled a microt later. "Three motras and the landing's soft!"

Three motras sounded plenty far to Zhaan. Renyr didn't look very happy about it either. But they were all being ushered to the door.

"When I get to the door, the rest of you drop him," Nach said quickly. "I'll drop him in. We can follow."

That sounded like a recipe for overbalancing Nach, but this wasn't a good time to argue. Zhaan obeyed, as did Renyr and Agnola. Nach swung quickly around and dropped Fedele, but would have fallen in immediately after him if Tacer hadn't caught her arm.

Pushy was getting impatient, so they tried to move quickly. Tacer jumped, then Nach beckoned Agnola. Zhaan followed. Three motras wasn't too far to drop if you landed well, but it *looked* intimidating, especially given the very dim lighting. But Renyr was right behind her, so she tried to aim for an open spot, and jumped.

#####

She considered skipping the Royal Sebaceans entirely, as there was obviously no chance -- not one in a thousand, not one in a *billion* -- of them giving up whoever had ordered the urban area destroyed for a Nebari trial. (Surely the Nebari making the demands knew that, too, or they wouldn't have called for a trial they had no hope of setting up. Or maybe they meant a "trial"...) She decided to give it a try anyway when it occurred to her they were an excellent target for the guilt strategy.

Sikozu leaned forward across the commander's desk. "They took those doctors because they were angry about the destruction of that urban area. They are angry at *you*. There is a *Sebacean* on that team, Commander."

Kalish did *not* suffer from stress-induced upset stomachs -- bioloid Kalish still less so -- but her stomach did a long, slow flip-flop as she realized it was true. That "Sebacean" might really be in more danger. Dren, dren, *dren*.

She pushed her concerns to the back, and continued. "I know you can't give these people what they want. But if you can just *pretend*, you may be able to save a young woman's life."

#####

The grain wasn't as soft as she could have hoped for, but it was very slippery -- her feet went right out from under her as a cloud of dust arose. Orek hauled her up out of the way as Renyr jumped, then hauled Renyr out of Nach's way.

//That's everyone,// Zhaan thought, coughing in the enormous cloud of dust they'd stirred up. //At least we have plenty of room.//

A bucket hit the 'landing area'. Nach staggered to her feet, tried to walk back towards the landing area, slipped and fell. Closing her eyes, she shouted, "We need water! You didn't give us any in the truck, we're half-dehydrated! And we need more to keep this frelling dust down!"

There was a brief silence above, then someone -- Talking Guy, maybe -- said, "Wait. We'll bring some later." The door -- hatch, really -- clattered shut, leaving the silo even darker. There was barely any light.

Zhaan sighed, and sagged down to sit cross-legged. More grain dust puffed up, and she started wheezing. Between coughs, she got out, "Hope they take you seriously about the water, Nach."

Renyr groaned. "Why the frell did they put us in a silo?"

"I don't know, no oubliette?" Tacer replied. "This is perfect, a collapsed lung and the dustiest prison in the history of the universe."

"You have a collapsed lung? And you're walking?"

"I'm a very durable person."

Zhaan shook her head. "Too much gesticulating. I motion we all stay very still to keep the dust down."

"I suppose it's worth a try..."

#####

Evek stared at her. "You want us to acquiesce to their demands?"

"Not necessarily actually *acquiesce*, just... play along." She spread her hands. "Stop expanding your operations, just for a few days."

"I never knew you cared so much about the Eleemosynaries, Shanu," Evek said, sounding bemused.

"They're a neutral group, I feel obligated," she tried. That had flown with the Royal Sebaceans and the Heptars, at least as a reason for why she was getting involved -- no one would make any promises about cooperating. Evek looked doubtful.

"The frell you do. We've both been on the other side of this enough to know the last thing we want to do is agree to their demands. It'll only make them do it again. Come on, what's really going on here?"

She hesitated. She really didn't want to tell anyone that John Crichton was involved, or would be shortly -- someone else might try to take advantage of that. Unfortunately that also eliminated her really compelling explanation of why people ought to play along with the Nebari...

Finally she shook her head, and said carefully, "Let's just say that the Nebari doing it again, with a different group of Eleemosynaries -- doing it ten times with ten different groups of Eleemosynaries -- would be preferable to the Nebari doing any permanent damage to the group they have now."

"Huh." He sat back and regarded her through narrowed eyes. "You really mean that."

"Yes."

"I think you owe me an explanation as to why."

"I've told you more than I have anyone else, Egenek. Help me out, and I might give you the details when it's over."

//Or if I suspect Crichton is about to blow up the planet.//


	4. A Spur Upon the Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3: A Spur Upon the Soul, in which Ry is overstimulated, Zee is trying not to be disillusioned, Chiana is tired of being in charge, Pilot is thinking, and everyone is very worried.

John leaned on the wall, watching Ry hurtle around the maintenance bay, both parents in hot pursuit. He didn't have any more sharp objects, at least, which was an improvement. Barely on board, and already their lapsed baby-proofing was becoming obvious.

He heard Aeryn walk in, and shifted over to make room. "I think Ry's a bit overstimulated. It's gotta be way past his bedtime by now."

"I spoke to Stark," Aeryn said. "He's on his way, but he was off in Heptar space for some reason, so we'll probably beat him there."

He nodded. Heptars were the snaky ones, he thought.

"The other kidnapped Eleemosynaries are two other interns, two orderlies, and three Nebari volunteers," Aeryn continued. "The interns are Nach and Renyr."

"Yeah, I remember, Zee's mentioned them." Which made them real -- it wasn't *just* their daughter who had been kidnapped, as much as it felt like it. "Renyr's the Nebari, right? And Nach is a Banik."

"Yes. It seems Nach doesn't have any family, and Renyr's mother couldn't get leave from work. One of the orderlies -- a Banik -- has a father who will be coming with Stark. Apparently the other orderly left contact information for a sister, but it's rather convoluted and they aren't sure when she'll actually get the message. If the volunteers have anyone, they'll be on Nebari Prime."

John nodded again. "He hadn't heard anything more?"

"No. He did say that he was told Sikozu was trying to convince the various occupying forces to play along with the demands."

"Good luck with *that*." But at least she was trying. //And I bet it's because of Zee. No, because of *us*, of how we'll react.//

Or, in all honesty... //Because of me. Because people are frightened of me.// But if it helped Zhaan at all, he wouldn't complain.

Out in the maintenance bay, Ksenia finally managed to get in front of Ry, and scooped him up. "*Got* you, you little speed-machine."

"Mommee!" Ry crowed happily. "Moya!"

"Ry, you can't just keep running and running when we're asking you to stop," Dee said, a hand on his forehead. "There are places on Moya which are dangerous."

Ry just grinned at him. "Run run run! Ji-bed man!"

When the kids were little, they'd had a big pile of mats along one wall of the maintenance bay, for crashing into on a scooter, or napping on while Mom and Dad worked, or tossing your little sister into. It had eaten into the workspace, but it had been worth it. Maybe they ought to dig them out, if Ry was going to be with them for a while. It might save a little time chasing him, anyway.

Dee sighed. "Do we need to put the leash on you, kiddo?"

At once, Ry subsided, a little. "No leash."

Leaning in to be at eye level with Ry, Dee smiled sympathetically. "Then you really need to listen when we tell you to stop, okay, Ry?"

"Kay."

"Let's go see Granda and Granma," Ksenia suggested.

Ry perked up. "Kay!"

John straightened as all three came over, Ry squirming in Ksenia's arms. "Hey, guys."

"Granda! Granma! Run run run!"

"I never should have told him that story," Dee muttered. "I was never this bad, I swear."

"He's just excited," Ksenia said. "Oof, Ry, *ask* if you want Granda to carry you, no diving."

"Sure, I'll take him." John reached out. "How's it going, little guy?"

"Run run run!" At least he seemed to be off the greasy grimy gopher guts.

"Any news?" Dee asked.

"Heard from Stark," Aeryn replied. "Nothing new from Nebari Prime."

Dee nodded. "And how are you holding up?"

Sick with worry. Also being half-throttled by Ry. "Easy, there, little guy. We're... coping." Sort of. But since when did Dee fuss over them? Let your kids grow up, and the next thing you knew they were trying to babysit you...

"If Pilot's free, there was something I wanted to ask him about," Ksenia murmured. She squeezed Dee's shoulder, gave Ry a kiss on the forehead, nodded to John and Aeryn, and headed out of the maintenance bay.

"Bye, Mommee!" Ry called.

Dee grinned, a bit sadly. "It's all a big adventure to you, Ry, isn't it?"

"Venture!"

"Well, no need to worry him," John sighed. "He hasn't even met Zee in person." Or at all -- Zee never did full-hologram messages, and Ry was too young to really appreciate a face on a screen...

"He'll have the chance," Aeryn said firmly.

"Lots of chances," Dee agreed, "since Aunt Zee will be staying on Moya until she's forty, isn't that right? And you can babysit her, can't you, Ry?"

Ry just giggled, uncomprehending.

#####

Zhaan had managed to doze off again, so she wasn't sure how long it was before their captors turned a hose on them. She flailed upright with a yelp under the cold spray, kicking up grain -- but not much dust. Small mercies.

"Just water, Zhaan," Nach said, catching her shoulder before she could fall back over. "Nothing to worry about."

"Except freezing," Renyr muttered. "No way is this thing heated."

"We'll just need to huddle up," Nach replied. "They gave us drinking water, too. And I think losing the dust is worth a dousing."

"Definitely, at least now it won't explode," said -- it sounded like Agnola. "I hate dust explosions."

"If no one gets hurt, I think they're pretty funny," Tacer put in.

"Given that we're *in* a *reinforced* silo--"

Uh-huh. She'd ask for explanations later. Zhaan sighed, and leaned against Nach. "How long has it been?"

"Since we were thrown in here?" Tacer again. "Not long. About two and a half arns." He paused, then added a little defensively, "I have a good time sense."

"We'll take your word for it," Orek said. "How are you doing?"

"Ugh... as good as can be expected. I'm tough. I'll live."

"Your lung?"

"It'll reinflate on its own when the hole's all scabbed over. Honest. What about Gervis and Fedele?"

"I was going to ask that," Zhaan muttered.

"Both out," Renyr replied. "I'm getting really worried about Gervis. I think Fedele's swelling has gone down a little. Agnola's--"

"Fine," Agnola interrupted. "I'm fine." But her words were a little slurred.

"I wish they'd at least tell us what they want," Orek complained after a short silence.

"You're assuming they know," Nach muttered. "They might--"

The panel above them opened again, spilling light into the dark silo. A figure was silhouetted against the brightness -- a big, bulky Nebari man, with close-cropped hair.

"My name is Tygo," he -- *growled* was really the only word for it. "I lead this Resistance cell."

The Resistance? They'd been kidnapped by the Resistance? What the frell?

Nach's arm tightened around Zhaan's shoulders. "We're medical personnel," she called. "If you needed help, you could have asked. What do you want from us?"

"You had better hope the aliens give up their plans, or you'll suffer for it," Tygo growled.

"Which aliens?" Nach shouted back. "*What* plans? What are you talking about? We're just medics!"

"It's true," Agnola put in. "They've been helping people ever since they got here, I swear. They've even tried to step in with the militaries--" The panel above slammed shut, cutting off the light. "Well, that was rude," Agnola muttered. "And here I was going to tell them how I always wanted to join the Resistance. I'm changing my mind *now*, I can tell you."

"Revolts have a way of eating out people's hearts," Tacer said, unexpectedly subdued. "I expect most of the people involved in our revolt were not very nice people by the end of it."

"But the Resistance-guy we met on Zee's parents' Leviathan wasn't such a smeghead," Renyr objected, before Zhaan could speak up. "Not really *smart*, maybe, but not a smeghead."

Yes, poor... what *was* his name? The Resistance courier with the amputated leg, who'd known about the sabotaged Transmission. "Vinkel," Zhaan said at last. "His name was Vinkel. And he wasn't nasty, all the other refugees thought he was very kind and helpful." //And Aunt Chiana isn't... a smeghead, either.// "This Tygo's not nasty because he's in the Resistance, he's nasty because he's a nasty guy."

"Fair enough," Tacer replied. "I hope you're right. But think about whether Tygo's a smeghead to people on his side."

#####

The glebe control center was lit only by the emergency lights -- the primary banks had been computerized, to vary intensity according to daylight and standard time, and had failed when the computers frelled themselves. The medical corner wasn't working very well, either, but for lack of anything else they were using it anyway. The only thing really fully operational was the emergency radio receiver, which they'd been camping by in shifts for the last several days, ever since they figured out how to turn it on. The vigilance had finally paid off. Sort of.

"And that was *all* they said?" Chiana pressed. "Just, 'We're the Resistance, the Establishment done did it, goodbye'?"

Rossi shrugged helplessly. "Yes. Just like the last one said, 'This is the Establishment, the--' "

"Resistance did it, yeah." Chiana glared at the receiver. Even when they'd finally *received* something, the thing couldn't *record* anything, so she had to go by Rossi's account. Though it did sound like the actual messages hadn't been worth much more. "Who else heard it?"

"Which one?" When she transferred her glare to him, Rossi added hastily, "Vieri was inside. Amata was checking on Ruber. But since the environmentals started malfunctioning it's kept getting so loud in here -- it was loud then -- I don't know if any of them heard over the vents..."

"Okay. And none of the civilians. Good." Chiana nodded. They didn't need any *more* unrest-- //What am I thinking? Frell, I'm getting *old*!//

Rossi squirmed. "Chiana--"

"Yes?"

"The first message -- it's a lie, isn't it? The Resistance couldn't have done this. It. The sabotaged Transmission, that--" He broke off.

Rossi had been with her when the world went fahrbot. They hadn't seen the worst of it, not nearly, she knew, but they'd seen -- enough. Enough to desperately want to believe the Resistance had had *nothing* to do with it. But -- truth or a comforting lie? //Sometimes I hate being in charge.//

She'd waited too long. "Oh, frell, we did," Rossi moaned, and buried his face in his hands. "How could they?"

"No!" Chiana said sharply. "Rossi, I don't know who did it. I have no idea. For all I know, it could have been -- it could've been *Delvians* who did it for all I know. I just can't promise you it *wasn't* the Resistance, because -- I don't know."

Rossi nodded, relieved. "All right. Thanks, Chiana."

Chiana smiled at him, and by sheer force of will kept the smile on until she got outside. Leadership was hard. And it never failed to astound her how eager people were to believe her.

//Now, if only someone would reassure me. You would have told me, wouldn't you, Nerri? If you were going to destroy the world?//

Outside, she nodded politely to Vieri, who had become a lot more respectful after the Zenetan thing, although he still turned up his nose at her clothing. The people from the next glebe over were torn between courteous greetings and surreptitious stares. Most of them still weren't used to the idea of living with *Resistance fighters*! though having saved them from the Zenetans helped.

//In fact, I really ought to be very grateful to the Zenetans, mostly.// If it weren't for poor Ruber, still lingering between life and death, and the nagging fear that they'd eventually be attacked by *more* Zenetans, she might have been. //Or if they'd had the courtesy to leave us a working ship, instead of that junk heap cluttering up the glebe...//

Speaking of... "Palma!" Chiana called, heading towards the degrol-butchering area. "Have a few microts?"

"Of course," Palma said. "Sorry, duty calls." She sprang up and hurried over, pausing to rinse her hands.

"Funny how everyone dealing with degrols always has time to talk to me," Chiana mused.

"Yes, very strange," Palma agreed. "What is it?"

"I was wondering if you'd had a chance to look at the Zenetan ship." Palma had never actually been off the planet -- but she'd worked on ships on the ground, building and maintaining the Establishment's fleet.

"Look at it, yes. I haven't tried turning on power, because I'm not sure how its fuel system works. I think it might, um..."

"Explode?"

"Well, maybe, but more likely spout noxious fumes and kill the kids." Palma shrugged. "It looks very strange."

"I believe you." Stupid Zenetans. "But say we weren't worried about that. Could you get the thing in the air?"

Palma frowned. "I don't know. It didn't crash, so it should be functional. Why?"

Chiana bit her lip for a moment. "Let's just say... Until I know more about the situation planetwide, I'd be happier if we had the ability to make a quick escape, to somewhere farther away than the next glebe over."

#####

Pax wandered into Pilot's den wearing black cargo pants and an orange and purple tee that had been Zhaan's favorite shirt when she was fifteen. She was barefoot, and seemed to be in the middle of brushing her hair. "Hi, Pilot," she said, leaning on the console.

"Pax. It's good to see you. I missed you earlier."

She nodded. "Sorry I didn't come say hi when I got on board, but what with everything, and the usual Ry circus... well, I didn't." She boosted herself up to sit on the console. "I was *never* that hyper."

Actually, even as a small child, Pax had been prone to dramatic mood swings, to the point where her parents had worried. Pilot had always just thought she took after her father. Calling the 'ups' "hyper" would not fully do them justice. Instead of trying to come up with an answer, Pilot just focused on the charts he was studying, to plan their course to Nebari Prime.

"You didn't go all the way there before, did you? Just to the border of Nebari space." Pax leaned over to look. "I've been reading a lot about Nebari space, but a lot of it's just speculation. They barely let anyone in, and don't let anyone who knows anything out. Didn't, I guess. There are decent star charts, but beyond that..."

"Yes," Pilot confirmed. "I am now analyzing the available information on the Nebari defenses, and what has happened to those defenses now."

Pax nodded. "Are they still active?"

"For the most part, no. Have you heard about the computer sabotage?"

"Of course. We had a raging debate in class about who did it." She shrugged. "Most of my classmates think Resistance, but it could just as easily have been an Establishment scorched-earth measure, or a third party taking advantage of the situation. Moya doesn't have to worry about the worm-thing, does she?"

"No," Pilot said, and added with a hint of pride, "Leviathan systems are far too complex to be affected by ordinary worm-programs." Not that they couldn't be sabotaged, as NamTar had almost demonstrated -- or as had been done to poor Talyn, more crudely. As always, he paused a microt to share Moya's lingering grief.

(They had been thinking, lately, about the possibility of another baby. Moya was still young. It should be possible for her to have an ordinary Leviathan child, though they wanted to have one last thorough check for Peacekeeper modifications first. They'd been about to bring it up to John and Aeryn when the current situation arose. Obviously it would have to wait now.)

"The computer sabotage took out all the fully automated systems. Their defense fleet disintegrated -- too many military personnel, ah... zombied." What *was* it about Earth words? "The Peacekeepers and Scarrans have been industriously dismantling any remaining defenses they find."

Pax nodded thoughtfully. "So it's really the PKs and Scarrans themselves you have to worry about."

"Yes and no," Pilot corrected. "Since Nebari Prime is not claimed by either, and many third parties are operating there, we should not actually have to worry about any defenses at all."

"Ahhh. So what you're concerned with is..."

"Maintaining a clear escape route to the edge of Nebari space. Just in case."


	5. Collateral of Bluff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4: Collateral of Bluff, in which John and Aeryn discuss leverage, parenting failures, strength, and all-terrain death traps, Sikozu pretends she has more authority than she does, a Sheyang pretends to be stupider than he is, and Zhaan and company can't decide what to pretend

There was a dim light on in D'Argo's cell, and Aeryn could hear the murmur of low voices as she paused outside. D'Argo and Ksenia were definitely up to *something* they weren't discussing with everyone, but Aeryn wasn't going to call them on it just yet. //It might just be how to keep John from spoiling Ry any more than he already does.// Pax's cell was dark, but that was because Pax was off roaming the corridors somewhere -- too keyed up to sleep, she'd said.

From the light in their cell, John wasn't asleep, either. He might just be waiting up for her -- but she doubted it.

Sure enough, he was sitting at the table, staring into space. He had a notebook in front of him. One of the old ones. //Frell.//

She went over and sat next to him before speaking. "John?"

He didn't look at her. "I was thinking, this morning, that the reason Sputnik is trying so hard is that she's worried about me. What I'll do. And then I realized -- I'm not really very worrying, these days. Was getting kind of proud of it, in fact. And now, now I *need* leverage, and--" He broke off, gesturing helplessly. "Innocuous Man is *not* going to get Zee out of this alive."

Aeryn sighed quietly. It wasn't that John didn't learn, but when he was stressed and worried, he just kept falling into the same trap. //He can save everyone if only he can find a big enough gun.// "John..."

"So I got the notebook out. But I don't want -- I've *never* wanted -- I -- Frell, I don't see any way out of this!"

"John." She put a hand on his arm, and spoke gently but firmly. "We don't know who has Zhaan. We don't know how to contact them. They may not even know who Zhaan is yet, and we'll need to think carefully about whether we want to let them know. So right now, there is no need for -- for really big guns."

"But--"

"We are going to find Zhaan, and then get whatever help we need to get her back. Together." She slid the notebook away across the table. "We don't need this."

She wasn't really worried about the notebook -- John knew better than anyone how impossible it was to *aim* wormhole-related weapons, and she was sure he wouldn't risk taking out a populated planet just to make a point. Not when it wouldn't help. The concern was John tearing himself apart over whether he was doing everything he could.

"You have no idea how much I hope you're right," John mumbled, his face in his hands. "God, what a nightmare."

"Yes," Aeryn agreed.

"We never should have let her go into Nebari space."

Aeryn nodded. "Of course, that would have required one of us telling her she couldn't."

"Huh." He frowned, then shook his head. "In front of all her colleagues. Not to mention Sikozu. Never would've flown. Unless," he cracked a reluctant smile, "remember the time Dee decided we were absolutely not going to the Eidolon Temple while there were Charrids there?"

She certainly did. "I still think Noranti had more than a little to do with that," she reminded him. "Where -- where else -- would a nine-cycle-old child have gotten diuretics?"

"Never should have let Dee learn to cook with Noranti," John agreed.

"We did try, I seem to remember."

"And we tried to keep him from getting in that boat race on Hyneria. Succeeded in not letting Zee go with him, at least."

"You also succeeded in not letting him have that virtual reality game."

"Yeah, and then he gave up on it and bought that all-terrain death trap." John paused. "Oh, I have it. If we'd gotten rid of the all-terrain death trap, he never could have taken Zee for a ride even though we told him not to, and-- No, wait. We *shouldn't* have said he couldn't take Zee for a ride, we should have said he could if he put in a second safety harness. Then he wouldn't have fallen out, and Zee wouldn't have had to splint his ankle, and she wouldn't have gone into medicine."

Aeryn raised her eyebrows. "I gather you've forgotten what Zhaan's dolls looked like by the time she gave them up."

"That wasn't an aptitude for medicine, that was an aptitude for mad science," John grumbled. "Frankensteinian stitches, limb transplants, *head* transplants. No wonder Pax wouldn't have anything to do with the poor things."

//Or she just wasn't interested in dolls.// "We couldn't keep Pax out of politics, either," she pointed out.

"No." John rubbed his eyes again. "Maybe we couldn't have stopped her. Stopped Zee. She was -- she *is* doing what she wants to do, and I *know* we have to let them go... But frell, Aeryn, she's just nineteen. We shouldn't have to let her go. Not yet. I'm not ready." His voice dropped to a whisper. "I'm never gonna be ready."

"No." And *frell*, her eyes were starting to burn. She wasn't ever going to be ready, either.

And John must have heard something in her voice, because he turned abruptly to look at her. "Aw, shit, Aeryn. I'm sorry. I'm trying to fix things and I just end up making you be strong for both of us--"

"Not strong," she corrected. "Just cool-headed." She swallowed hard, trying to push back the tears. "We can switch tomorrow."

They held each other for a long time before they went to bed.

#####

There was a dark blue stain on the carpet in the corner of Sikozu's office, where the previous tenant, a mid-level Establishment functionary, had bled out after being stabbed seventeen times by a trusted subordinate. Just for kicks, she had started to maneuver people coming in to argue with her into standing on the stain. Many of them failed to notice, but it amused her, anyway, and she needed all the amusement she could get.

Of course, usually just having them come to her in the first place was a victory, given her limited theoretical authority and total lack of firepower. //Frell, Scorpius, I really need some backup.// She'd sent a rather vague communication on the latest crisis; hopefully he'd get what she meant and *do something*.

Her current visitor shuffled his feet. "I really do not understand what you want me to do with these... things." Biasi frowned down at the flimsies as if they were dirty -- well, dirtier. "I don't know anything about--"

"You're a social analyst," Sikozu said. Biasi required *all* her patience. "So analyze. Some Nebari wrote those demands. Who? Male or female? How well-educated were they? Working for the Establishment or the Resistance? Where are they hiding? Just -- anything and everything you can tell me! Now go away, I have an appointment." So easy to order them around...

Word had spread about kidnapped Eleemosynaries. So far, she hadn't heard any rumors about... well, the problem. //But it can't last. Once they get here, people will hear about it, and they'll wonder why, and then...//

Actually, she wasn't at all sure what would happen *then*. Crichton had been leading a low-profile existence lately -- nothing notable for... eight cycles, maybe, and even then it had just been getting caught up in a minor mix-up between some Zenetans and some Baniks. Lately the name came up more in outrageous stories, some of them true, than in genuine political discourse.

//Yes, well, it's not *politics* that worries me.// Crichton played politics when forced to, and he wasn't a natural at it. He was *much* more gifted at just causing chaos.

Before she could start constructing dire scenarios, Colosa appeared in the doorway. "Sikozu? There's a... a big... sort of a..." She trailed off, raising her hands to sketch out the outline of a huge head, around her own. "He says he has an appointment...?"

Only a little late. "Good, send him in."

The nominal head of the Sheyang forces was called Keirat, and he was an idiot. (Sometimes she seriously suspected Sheyang chose their leaders by judging who produced the biggest fireball.) *Hopefully*, that would work to her advantage.

"Overlord Keirat," she said as soon as he came in. "Good. I've called you here to talk about your orbital installation."

"It's ours," Keirat said sullenly. "No one else was using it -- they were all dead."

"Yes, yes, of course." She waved a hand dismissively. "But we understand it has extensive scanning and surveillance equipment, aimed at the planet's surface." Not only extensive, but *powerful* -- according to Biasi, one of the assignments often given to junior social analysts was conducting "spot checks" of random citizens' behavior, using the surveillance recordings taken from *orbit*.

He stared at her blankly -- or possibly not, it was hard to tell with Sheyang. "Maybe."

"It's really quite clear from scans of the exterior," Sikozu said, in a matter-of-fact tone. "How soon do you think you'll have it up and running?"

"Up and running?" he repeated. "Nothing's working."

"The software has all been corrupted, yes, but the hardware is intact," she corrected. "It's simple enough to disconnect autocommunications systems, and you should be able to start reprogramming at once."

He stared at her.

"As soon as it's operational," she continued briskly, "we have a team to send up there to make some geographical observations of the planet's surface. It's a small team; they won't get in your way." She smiled blandly. //Now remind him I'm speaking from a position of strength, even though I'm not.// "If necessary we can even help with the reprogramming; the Neutrality Commission has access to excellent programmers."

"We can do it," he said, again sounding a bit sullen. "It'll be ready for your team."

"Excellent. We thank you for your cooperation, Overlord Keirat." Another bland smile. "I think we've kept you long enough."

Keirat rumbled something unintelligible and took himself out, leaving Sikozu alone with her thoughts. //Plans. They're plans.// Although at the moment her only concrete plan involved taking a nap, but first making Colosa and every other Nebari in the building swear on their lives to wake her if they heard *anything*.

She still wasn't sure who would constitute the "team". It would be good if she could get Crichton and Sun to stay on the orbital rather than rampage across the planet, but she wasn't counting on it. Still, although the amount of space to be covered made it a bit of a long shot, the surveillance equipment was too valuable a resource not to use.

//Frankly, it's too valuable to leave to the Sheyang. I wish I'd known about that setup earlier.// Or that she had some actual *backup* so she could chase them out.

She'd comm Scorpius again. Maybe with a concrete goal involved -- he'd appreciate the potential value of a surveillance station -- he'd commit some troops.

Maybe with *Crichton* involved, he'd commit some troops.

She wasn't going to count on it, though.

#####

They couldn't really justify keeping the injured Tacer awake just to keep asking him how long they'd been in the silo, slipping about on the grain, huddling together for warmth, so they'd lost track of time. Zhaan had napped as much as she could, so she didn't have much of a guess herself, but even the dim light had faded, and eventually returned.

"Morning?" she asked, question directed at no one in particular.

"I expect," Orek replied. "Think they'll be back soon? I'm hoping they'll feed us."

Zhaan blinked, suddenly recalling that she hadn't eaten anything since her snack en route to the ill-fated Treatment Outreach Excursion. Why hadn't she noticed before? Too much tension, maybe. "Thanks for waking up my stomach, Orek."

"You're welcome. I'm about ready to try eating this grain."

The grain, in addition to being wet and sat on, seemed tough and very unappetizing. "Good luck with that."

"They'll be back this morning," Nach predicted. "We just have to be patient."

Maybe it was different for Nach and Orek -- surely as slaves they'd had to wait all the time, though they'd both been quite young when liberated -- but Zhaan found being patient to be difficult in practice. //What are they doing, making their beds?// It would have been even worse without the distraction of diagnosing one another's injuries, in as technical vocabulary as possible. Since she was *still* cuffed, Zhaan leaned against the wall of the silo while Nach and Renyr checked on Fedele, Agnola, and Gervis. It sounded like Agnola was still badly bruised, but in no danger, Fedele's swelling had definitely gone down, and Gervis groaned when shaken. So good news all around on that front. Waiting...

//I wonder if Mom and Dad have heard yet.// Oohhhh, they were *not* going to be happy. //I wonder if Pax has completely flipped. Again.//

She was still imagining her parents trying to get Pax under control when the panel finally opened. She didn't think the silhouette was Tygo the Smeghead -- not tall enough -- but beyond that it was hard to say anything.

"You're lucky," the Nebari said -- definitely not Tygo. "The aliens withdrew from our munitions plant, so you'll eat today." A bundle of something thudded down into the grain.

"*Which* aliens, *which* aliens," Orek muttered, under his breath, then, "Oh, what the frell. Which aliens?"

The Nebari paused a moment, then answered. "The tentacle-heads -- Luxans."

//And Dad said humans were xenophobes.// Well, to be fair, interspecies cooperation probably wasn't a feature of Nebari curriculum any more than it was in human curriculum... //Or Peacekeeper curriculum. Or Scarran curriculum. Okay, so everyone's a xenophobe.//

"That's enough, Gellen." Tygo had arrived. Zhaan didn't look up, but she imagined him glowering down at them. "I'll talk to them."

Nach straightened. "I'm hoping you'll *listen* to us," she said earnestly. Everyone else was watching her; even Tacer had opened his eyes.

"That depends on what you have to say."

Nach took a deep breath. "We are *medics*," she enunciated slowly. "From the Center for Eleemosynary Medicine. The only government that sponsors us is Nron, and it hasn't been active here at all. If you want medical help, all you had to do was ask. If you want a ransom, talk to Nron; they might be able to pay. But there is no point in asking anyone else, because we are not associated with them. If you just let us go, we can forget this ever happened."

//That won't bring Massik back,// Zhaan thought mutinously. But he wouldn't be the first person killed over a misunderstanding -- or the last. If Nach could get the rest of them out of this...

"So you say no one but a few medics will care, and no one will be coming for you," Tygo said.

//Oh, they'll come. Just not the governments. You should let us go before they get here. Everyone would be a lot happier.//

"That we're not getting anything from holding you." He sounded like he was thinking it over.

"And you never will," Tacer said -- but sounding *defiant*, not conciliatory at all. What the frell?

Clearly, Tygo caught the tone, too, as he just growled, "We'll see about that," and slammed shut the panel.

There wasn't even a microt of silence. "What in hezmana did you do that for?" Nach snarled. "I was getting through to him. He was starting to believe that we're--"

"Useless?" Tacer hissed back. "Of course we're useless. Everything you said is true. But judging from how they've acted all along -- how they killed Massik, how they've used *names*, what a complete... *smeghead* Tygo is -- if we convince them we're useless they're not just going to apologize and let us go when it's so much easier to shoot us and throw us in the composter."

Nach stared at him for a few moments, then said, "Oh, *dren*," and threw herself back on the grain. "Why didn't I think of that?"

"Because in *your* revolt, when you took hostages, you eventually let them go." He shook his head. "Our revolt was much bloodier."

//He doesn't think they ever meant to let us go,// Zhaan realized. //Must've been some revolt.//

Renyr hunched forward, worrying at his bitten lip. "But -- *are* we useless? The other one said the Luxans had withdrawn from some munitions plant."

"Lucky coincidence?" Orek offered.

Zhaan shook her head. "No. I don't think so, anyway." She paused, trying to decide how much to explain. "One of the Luxan kleevahs is -- the son of an old friend of my parents. He knew I was here. I don't know for sure, but he might have..."

"Taken action to try to keep you safe," finished Nach. "So Zhaan's not useless."

"Well, not quite." //I'm useless like an unexploded bomb.// "But anyway we don't have to tell *them* it's because of me. We just let them believe it's all of us."

Nach sighed. "Setting aside that they'd probably be suspicious if I suddenly started arguing that we're wonderful hostages, limited cooperation from one sub-commander in one group of 'invaders' isn't going to do them -- or us -- much good without cooperation from all those people who don't care about us."

"I don't suppose your parents have any other conveniently placed friends?" Orek asked hopefully.

//You have *no* idea. Then there are the inconveniently placed enemies.// "I would really rather leave my parents out of this. For as long as possible, anyway."

Agnola shifted, grunting a little -- still bruised, obviously. "We could try to befriend them."

"We could if Tygo would let any of the others talk to us." Renyr scowled up towards the panel. "I could really get to hate that guy."

"Well, it seems to be mutual," Zhaan returned. "Just wish we knew *why*."


	6. Holding Pattern

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 5: Holding Patterns, featuring worried Stark, startled Sikozu, and Stupid Games You Can Play While Locked In A Frelling Silo.

Stark hated long-distance negotiations, mostly because he knew he was much more effective in person. It was partly *because* he just didn't like long-distance negotiations, the impersonality, dealing with a projection at best and just some text at worst, the potential for interference, misinterpretation -- he didn't like any of it, and he knew it threw him off; the less he liked it, the worse he was, the worse he was, the less he liked it, and so on. But he didn't think that was all of it. He wasn't conceited enough to imagine himself influencing peace, like the Eidolons, but, well, he *was* a Stykera. He rather thought he could give his arguments a little extra *push*, in person. It was reason enough to avoid long-distance negotiations. When possible.

However, that still wasn't quite enough to make it a good thing that they still didn't have anyone to negotiate *with*.

"Not a whisper, not a hint, not *nothing*," Tash groaned, her frustration and worry carrying quite clearly over the audio-only comm. "We've been asking everyone we meet if they know anything -- though that's not as many as it might be, as my people are understandably hesitant about treatment excursions. Except for Miko, who is the one person I am *trying* to keep out of the field. I think he thinks he needs to prove his goodwill."

Miko was from the Royal Planet. "Has he been going out?"

"No. I have him managing a ward to keep him too busy to try -- and too exhausted to argue with me -- but no." Tash paused for a moment. "All the interns -- everyone's worried, but the interns, the students are... distraught. We were trying to help them, why would they do this, how could they do this -- that sort of thing. A sort of bewildered anger." She sighed. "I've been trying to steer people towards compassion and understanding -- they're overrun and largely defenseless, they're likely terribly afraid -- but it doesn't help that *I'm* so frelling angry..."

And with no one to talk to about it, she was so focused on being the cool head and voice of reason. "Tell me."

A half-laugh squeezed out. "We were trying to help them, why would they do this, how could they do this. How *dare* they take out their grievances with the Royal Planet and the Zenetans on us. I've half a mind to pack everyone up and leave and see if they like that as much as they think they would!" A loud thump; she must have smacked the comm console. "But I know, I *know* that it's just a small group, that most people want and need help... I'm trying for it to be enough."

"It's hard, Tash, I know. Just keep trying." Anger was easy, especially when *almost* justified. Even when it was justified, it still sometimes wasn't the best way to get things done. Even when it was killing you to keep it suppressed.

"Yes. I think I got off on a tangent -- what was I...?"

Stark thought back. "Asking people you meet if they know anything?"

"Oh, right. Yes. Um, they're sympathetic, outraged, at least they say they are -- and I *think* they're telling the truth, since they're mostly not shy of complaining about Zenetans or Luxans or Kalish or... all the rest. But no one knows anything. There have been more incidents, and Nebari attacking the incomers, and some of them have delivered manifestos or lists of demands, but they don't mention us at all and they aren't the *same* demands, so I think it's discrete groups. Shanu says she doesn't know anything, either, and she's frustrated enough I think *she's* telling the truth." Her voice dropped. "What I would *like* to do is go out to where they were taken and try to track them -- Baben said they drove off in a ground vehicle. But I don't have the people to do it... When are you going to get here?"

He knew Tash well, had watched her grow up, and he could tell she was fraying. "Another two solar days, maybe a day and a half," he replied. "Some of us on board have tracking experience." Usually used to find escaped slaves hiding in undeveloped areas so they could get them to safety, but the principle was the same. "We can try."

"I'll just be glad when you're here. This situation is... unfamiliar. We're used to overlords and armies being upset when we meddle with the people they're trampling, but for the people we're trying to help... It's new, and... unbalancing."

It wasn't exactly routine business for Stark, either, but he wasn't going to say that *now*. However, he really ought to mention... "You do know that... Zhaan's parents... will likely get to Nebari Prime a solar day before I will?"

#####

Tygo had apparently decided to let them sit for a while. //To make us nervous,// Zhaan thought. //Break us down.// Funny, to know those things. //I always thought Pax would be the one who'd end up in Mom and Dad's old life, if any of us did.//

Having looked at one another's injuries again, they eventually launched into a survey of "Stupid Games You Can Play While Locked In A Frelling Silo".

Her father had been right: all civilizations had some variant of Twenty Questions. However, none of her companions got any meaning from the term "breadbox", except Fedele, who, as it turned out, thought it meant more of a bread *warehouse*.

Creating art in the grain didn't last long, as it couldn't hold a pattern well enough to do anything complicated, and there were only so many anatomical jokes a bunch of bipedal species could make.

Tacer had an unfair advantage in memory games -- "No, I don't know what, but no one's that good without *some* sort of unfair advantage" -- so they made him referee while they tried to remember how many coolers there were in the main ward, how many times "Zenetans???" was written on the big map, the names of the local commanders of the various contingents on planet, and equally asinine things.

When he got tired of refereeing, Tacer suggested a game which he guaranteed he did *not* have an unfair advantage at, called "Most Like". One person thought of something -- anything -- everyone made a guess, and the first person chose which guess was closest to the original thing. Then this repeated until the guessers got it. It proved quite challenging, and they only made it through one lengthy round, because no one else could believe Renyr, having thought of "Dreadnought", could have chosen Zhaan's "Damban Lizard-Bird" over Agnola's "threshing machine" and not have been deliberately sending them in the wrong direction.

Agnola suggested coming up with times in the past when they'd been less comfortable. Zhaan could come up with one right away -- it involved an unfamiliar and very sunny planet, Charrids, a bounty, a stifling metal storage shed, her teenage brother *completely* failing to disguise the fact he was afraid they were going to get heat delirium, and eventually a parental lecture more blistering than the shed walls about taking off on her own -- but she didn't really want to discuss it. (As amusing as D'Argo's unnecessary panic was in retrospect, she'd sort of gotten him into it.) Fortunately, Nach, Orek, and Tacer also said they weren't interested in that game.

She'd had no idea Baniks had so many word games. Unfortunately, a lot of them were based on puns or double entendres and depended on actually speaking the language in question, or languages. Apparently there were two dialects of "grotspich" which were full of words which *sounded* similar, but meant very different things.

The hand-clapping games were fine as far as they went, but Fedele was lying down, Tacer was curled around his injury, and Zhaan was still cuffed.

More promising was the Nebari cooperative game -- "You know, I think that might be the first thing I've ever heard about conformist Nebari entertainment" -- where you tried to tell a story, each successive word starting with the successive letter of the alphabet. With four species, ten possible alphabets (she wasn't the only multilingual one), and translator microbes, it was actually very funny, and no one could tell if Zhaan was cheating. But she just switched between English and Sebacean according to what was most convenient; Renyr claimed he was using the unique "Blarpite" alphabet, and by the time the game ended in snickers and handfuls of thrown grain, everyone was pretty sure he'd made the whole thing up. Better yet, Gervis opened her eyes -- finally! -- and asked what the frell was going on.

If they hadn't been in a chilly, damp silo, being held prisoner by crazed Resistance fighters, and if she hadn't been *cuffed*, it would have been a pretty good day.

#####

Sikozu's desk was covered edge to edge in manifestos. She swore there were more of them than the last time she'd looked. //Are the manifestos breeding, or just the uprisings?//

Truthfully, "uprisings" was an overly generous term. The Royal Sebaceans were using it, and the Luxans, the Ilonics, Hynerians, Heptars, Traoists. Evek Egenek, who knew better, was calling them "disturbances". The Nebari in question were making some noise, yes. Doing a little damage, yes. But there were never very many of them, not enough to be an uprising, and so far only three of the groups had even caused enough trouble to warrant the name "terrorist" -- the ones who destroyed the transport, the ones who kidnapped the Eleemosynaries, and most recently, the ones who'd gunned down a Traoist colonel.

But lately it seemed that *all* of them, down to the ones who set already abandoned buildings on fire or threw a brick through a window, were writing *manifestos*. (One had been tied around the brick.) "We the Nebari Establishment," "We the Nebari Resistance," sometimes "We the Nebari," demand, demand, demand. Idiots.

She'd instructed her aides to put the word out that she would be willing to deal, and deal seriously, with any Nebari group which returned the kidnapped Eleemosynaries alive and unharmed. So far, no response.

*Enough* of idiot Nebari who couldn't even manage a proper uprising. She shoved all the manifestos onto the corner of her desk--

"Madam?"

And speaking of idiot Nebari, Biasi was back. Wonderful. "What?"

"I've finished the analysis." When she didn't say anything, he added, "Of the kidnappers' demands."

Right. She had asked him to do that. "Did it tell you anything useful? Like their precise address?"

Biasi blinked. "How would I be able to tell that? They could have gone anywhere. Even predictions about geographical origin are notoriously unreliable given uniformity of the schools--"

She held up a hand. "Fine. What *can* you tell me?"

"Ah." Biasi shuffled the flimsies. "Well. My analysis suggests, based on overall consistency of style, that there was only a single author, and a native Nebari speaker. The author had gone through standard basic education, and possibly more, but not in a bureaucratic field. That is, the author was not an experienced writer. Ah, this was probably written out at least twice -- this appears to be a clean copy -- but not extensively revised. There are simple errors in structure which could easily have been corrected with a little care."

Sikozu narrowed her eyes. "So it was planned in advance, but not very much. Interesting."

"I don't make those judgments," he replied primly. "But... yes, that would be the obvious conclusion. The author was probably educated at least seventy cycles ago." He was actually getting *animated*, more than she'd ever seen him. "I base that on the lack of the queque symbolic conjunction, which became standard in the educational--" He stopped at the look on her face. "Er. You asked about Establishment versus Resistance. This wasn't something we did very much with, it was generally *known*."

"I don't care what you don't know."

"No, of course not, I'm just saying this to caution you that the next results are not conclusive. But I did a comparative survey of the recent statements which have been attributed to Resistance or Establishment." He nodded at the pile of manifestos. "Based on vocabulary analysis, I would tentatively predict the author was a member of the Resistance."

"Really. Why?" Though she could think of one reason herself -- kidnapping people was a rebel's tactic, and it might be a little soon for the Establishment to have adopted it.

"Well, most simply, the call for Nebari *freedom* rather than Nebari *autonomy*. Recent statements have been fairly consistent."

That was reasonable. Although Biasi didn't seem to be considering the possibility of people deliberately adopting their opponents' vocabulary in order to impersonate them. "Anything else?"

"Not from the writing, but one more thing..." He held up the sheets. "The material is durable, water-resistant, but doesn't take a fine line as well as what we have here. You see the fuzziness? This variety is usually used in gleben."

The agricultural outposts. Leave it to Biasi to leave the most important for last. "Good. You've been very helpful." And he had been, amazingly enough. She pushed the manifestos at him. "Next, see if you can come up with any predictions on which of these groups we should take seriously."

He nodded, looking... like he was anticipating a good *challenge*. "Of course, madam. If there's nothing else?"

//Amazing. So that's what it takes to bring him out of that... bureaucrat-face.// For the first time, she could really believe Biasi had seen The Transmission and been unaffected.

"Sikozu?" Colosa, again. "You told Vessi to monitor the cordon chatter and tell you if he heard anything about a Leviathan? He heard something about a Leviathan."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to pause in the posting for today, but in case it's gotten confused again: their are fourteen parts total.


	7. Butch and Sundance Ride Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 6: Butch and Sundance Ride Again, in which John and Aeryn are implacable, Sikozu is frustrated and alarmed (but not surprised), and some Eleemosynaries are speculative.

"What was that about?"

"Um, Healer Tash wants me to go down to meet Zhaan's parents and bring them up. They'll be here soon."

"Got it. Frell, they must be even more worried than we are."

"They sure got here fast, didn't they?"

"Well, didn't Zhaan grow up on a ship?"

"Mm-hmm. Leviathan. We stopped there, while the cordon was still up."

"Does anyone else think Tash is taking Zhaan's parents getting here *awfully* seriously?"

#####

John and Aeryn went down to the surface alone, despite noisy complaints from Pax and a surprisingly mild objection from Dee. //I'm starting to wonder if he's up to something.// Aeryn informed him that she would be flying; John hadn't argued. God knew she'd had to humor *him* enough lately. In the transport pod, he couldn't seem to stop pacing; fortunately, the weather was relatively calm and Aeryn managed a very smooth flight down.

Either Zhaan had been exaggerating the flooding in the urban area of 'New Eblekk,' or the water level was dropping. They probably could have landed the transport pod without flooding it when they opened the hatch. All the same, Aeryn set down on the Eleemosynaries' vehicle platform, mostly filled with atmospherics -- hadesopters, Zhaan had called them.

"You talked to Tash, right?" she asked as she put the pod on standby.

"Yeah. She said she'd send someone to bring us right up -- bet that's them now--" There were fifteen or twenty Eleemosynaries running around the platform, but only one of them was staring at the transport pod and shifting from foot to foot. "Guess we'd better go meet him." Gun -- check, backup gun -- check, comms -- check, backup comms and tracking device -- check, non-threatening-for-dealing-with-Eleemosynaries face... not quite check. //Working on it.// He tried to smile, then abandoned the effort. It probably wouldn't have been very reassuring anyway.

When they got down from the transport pod, the boy offered a tentative smile. "I'm Miko. You must be Zhaan's parents."

John nodded. "Right. You're... what, a student? Intern?"

"Starting out as an intern. Tash sent me to show you up."

As they started through the Eleemosynary headquarters, passing improvised wards and refugee areas, John whispered to Aeryn, "Sebacean or Banik?" He still wasn't very good at that, even after spending as much time at Nron as they did.

"Sebacean," she murmured. "Never been a Peacekeeper."

That much, he'd figured out. The kid didn't move like a soldier. "Royal Planet, you think?"

"Most likely."

They were attracting some covert looks. It said something about the state of anxiety in the Eleemosynary encampment that two armed, grim-faced strangers in long black coats were causing minimal additional concern. //No, wait.// Not quite strangers. Some of the Eleemosynaries had stopped on Moya before they came to Nebari Prime. They'd recognize them -- or at least Aeryn -- as Zhaan's parents. //Which would explain plenty well why we're looking grim.//

Finally, they got to Tash's office -- a drab room brightened by a streaky window -- only to find it empty. Miko blinked, but quickly led them onwards to a larger room a little down the hall. A meeting room, apparently -- Tash was in there with another Banik, two Nebari, and a Luxan, who all looked up when Miko knocked on the doorframe. "Tash...?"

Tash managed a brief, forced smile. "You're here. Palad, can you take over here? I need to talk to these people." The other Banik murmured an assent, and Tash quickly got up and joined them. "Back to my office, I think," she said, then turned to the Sebacean kid. "Thank you, Miko. Please tell Heliotaney that Zhaan's parents are here, then back to the ward, I think."

"All right." He left -- not without a few backward glances at John and Aeryn.

When they were inside the office with the door closed, John asked, "So what's the chance of him recognizin' us?"

"Smaller than the chance of most of my Banik interns recognizing you," Tash replied, moving flimsies around on her desk. "For some reason the Royal Planet has a strict -- if not always successful -- censorship policy on you and your activities. But you do know it's only a matter of time?"

"That's not important," Aeryn said bluntly. "Is there any news?"

"Only a lack of it. We haven't heard anything." Tash finally settled on one flimsy, which turned out to be a map. "Here, this is where they were taken -- the big orange square. Um, Sikozu Shanu has been looking into it. She might have something, though I doubt it's anything conclusive."

"Oh, great," John muttered, before Aeryn elbowed him. But if Sikozu had information, he was *not* going to be picky about the source.

"She hasn't told you anything?" Aeryn asked.

"No, but then she's hoarding all the information she can." Tash shrugged. "You can ask her yourself. I'm sure she'll be over here any microt -- she'll have heard you got in, and I told Heliotaney to play dumb on the comm."

"Fine." John picked up the map. "How accurate is this?"

"Topographically, very. With regard to anything that can be depopulated or burned to the ground, not so much."

"I see."

"There's not a lot of settlement here," Aeryn observed.

"No, there's not. They were abducted at the only hadesopter storage and maintenance station for hundreds of metras in any direction. Everything else there is just gleben. Agriculture."

"The middle of Nebari Iowa," John concluded. "So these dots are... what, farmhouses?"

Tash snorted. "Hardly. Control centers. There are dormitories, of course, for the agricultural workers assigned to each glebe, but there's nothing *homelike* about it. Even by Banik standards," she added dryly.

"How many people are out in the... gleben?" Aeryn asked.

"We don't know. A lot of the unaffected fled the cities, and most of them made for the gleben rather than the undeveloped land, but we don't know how many of them there were to begin with, far less how many of them made it." Tash shook her head. "The gleben are -- were, at least -- safer than the urban centers, but they're so isolated..."

"So all or none of these dots could be occupied?"

"I doubt they're all occupied. Agricultural workers watched the Transmission, too. But... no, we don't know which or how many."

Aeryn nodded thoughtfully. "We could do better with aerial scans. Thermal, especially."

A place to start. Something to *do*. Thank God. Of course-- "How far away could they have gotten? It's been days..."

Tash pursed her lips. "Traveling non-stop, they could have gotten off the area of this map. But that's assuming their vehicle had enough power to get that far. Most Nebari are not very widely mobile right now."

//Damn.// Still -- they had to start somewhere. "Check here first, then widening circles, maybe," he muttered. "After we look for tire tracks."

"That sort of scanning might be beyond a transport pod without a little fine-tuning," Aeryn said. She didn't have a lot of faith in the tire track strategy. "How are the hadesopter sensors?"

"You could ask -- just a microt." Tash leaned closer to the window, looking down. "Yes... I think that's Shanu's transport now."

#####

"So, are they as scary as they look?"

"They were very polite. Just... intense."

"I guess that's one way of putting it. Were they like that on their ship?"

"No. Not this much, anyway. But Zhaan hadn't been kidnapped then. It only makes sense they'd, uh..."

"Intensify."

"Yeah."

"At least now we have an idea why Zhaan has that pulse pistol. Zhaan never happened to say her parents were ex-Peacekeepers, did she?"

"Not to me. But she's always a little vague about her parents."

#####

There was indeed a Leviathan transport pod on the Eleemosynaries' vehicle platform -- not that she'd had much doubt. Crichton did not know the meaning of the word 'patience'.

Sikozu stalked grimly through the wards, letting Colosa explain that she needed to see Healer Tash. Immediately. She didn't ask her aide to gather rumors -- didn't need to -- but all the same Colosa reported that two mysterious black-clad non-Nebari had swept through not long earlier. The patients were merely curious; the Eleemosynaries were probably getting speculative.

No, she wasn't going to be able to keep their presence quiet for long. But how *soon* would people deduce who had descended upon them? //Anyone who knows them personally will probably keep quiet. But a lot of the Eleemosynaries are Baniks, many of them from Nron, and Crichton and Sun go there at least once a cycle. Even failing that, their descriptions combined with a *Leviathan*--// A day, maybe. If she was lucky. Fortunately, given the unreliability of communication, it would take considerably longer for the news to reach everyone on the planet.

And then what? //Possibly the worst part is I still have very little idea *then what*.// Except chances were it would involve something exploding.

Tash's office door was closed again, but still not locked, so she walked in, seeing just what she expected.

"Ever hear of knocking, Sikozu?" Crichton said, turning back to whatever was on Tash's desk. At least he was stable enough not to be pulling his pulse pistol on everything that moved.

"You could have come to talk to me," Sikozu said. "I probably know more about the overall situation here than anyone else."

"Do you know where Zhaan is?" Crichton snapped, not looking up. Sun touched his elbow.

"If I did, I would have done something by now," Sikozu replied. Probably best to be honest. "My analysts believe the mobile treatment group was taken by a group affiliated with the Resistance--"

"The *Resistance*?" Crichton exploded. "Oh, you've gotta be kidding me. This is-- Dammit. Frell!" He didn't sound like he disbelieved her, though. Sun just looked grim, and nodded.

Well, they both already knew the Resistance was behind the Collapse to begin with. She waited to be sure Crichton was finished with his little tantrum, and went on. "They also believe the group is headquartered in a glebe -- an agricultural outpost. We don't have any more concrete information."

Sun nodded. "That helps. Thank you, Sikozu."

"But I do have a suggestion. There's an orbital installation used for intensive surveillance. *Very* intensive," she emphasized. "I understand it can be used to count how much currency is stacked in a basement."

That got some raised eyebrows all around. "I wonder how many nonconformists they caught using that," Tash said.

Crichton snorted. "I wonder how many Establishment flunkies got sent to be mind-cleansed when they were caught using it to look through people's clothes."

"But does it work?" Sun said.

"Unlike many of the other artificial satellites, it was undamaged during the Collapse," Sikozu replied promptly. She'd thought this over. "It is full of Sheyang, but I've informed them I may be sending a team. I'm sure you can deal with them."

"But does it work?" Sun repeated. Frell.

"No," Sikozu conceded reluctantly. "Its systems were hit by the computer-worm like everything else. The surveillance equipment is structurally intact, but the installation lacks the algorithms to access it. Right now," she added quickly. "Programmers are working on rectifying that as we speak."

Sort of true, anyway. She was sure the Sheyang were working on it. Unfortunately the few Nebari programmers her aides had located had no experience creating anything, only fixing glitches. Maybe she could try borrowing Tash's irritating Interion, //if that's not redundant,// or even--

"You might ask Pilot to assist with the algorithms," she suggested, inspired. "He would probably be very good at it."

"Yes, he would," Sun replied evenly. "Contact us when it's fully operational."

Frell! "And what are you going to be doing in the meantime?" she asked acidly. "Lobbying the Royal Fleet to surrender one of its captains? Holding random Nebari at gunpoint?"

"If we do, I'm sure you'll be the first to hear about it," Crichton said. He straightened up, folding a flimsy and shoving it into his coat. "I think we have enough to start with, Aeryn...?"

"For now. Thank you, Tash. We'll be in touch."

Tash nodded. "Goddess be with you both."

And they were leaving. Sikozu opted for dignity over futility, and didn't make any effort to stop them. As soon as their footsteps faded, she turned on Tash, glaring. "I can't believe you're just -- blithely turning the two of them loose!"

"I'm not sure what you're expecting me to do even if wanted to stop them," the Banik replied. "Besides, I think you're overreacting. They've been to Nron often enough, and have yet to destroy it."

//No, they haven't done Nron any damage at all, apart from the time they helped bring down its entire leadership, to be replaced by a council of Banik ex-slaves.// "You just don't care what they do or who they do it to as long as they get your Eleemosynaries back alive," she accused.

Tash opened her mouth, then closed it, and shrugged. "You may have a point."

Barely suppressing an outright growl, Sikozu left the office without another word.

Colosa caught her up at the end of the corridor. "Sikozu? What's going on? Who were those... Sebaceans, weren't they? Are they Peacekeepers?"

"You--" Of course Colosa had seen them, they'd probably walked out through the building the way everyone else did. "Is that what people here are saying they are?"

"Um, a lot of the Nebari were guessing that, but the Eleemosynaries they've asked have said no. But they haven't asked all of them--"

Sikozu wondered why Colosa was so interested in seeing a Peacekeeper. Curiosity, probably. "No. No, they're not Peacekeepers." She hesitated. "Have any of the Eleemosynaries ventured any guesses?"

"I think a few of them said maybe ex-Peacekeepers. But... I don't know what they're saying to each other."

"Hmm." She considered trying to find out immediately, but decided it wasn't a big problem until it filtered *outside* the Eleemosynaries. "Come on. We need to find some way to track a Leviathan transport pod."

Except, when they got out to the vehicle platform, the transport pod was still there, and Crichton and Sun weren't.

#####

"Shanu seems really worked up about Zhaan's parents being here, too."

"Well... it might be a coincidence? There are a lot of things she could be worked up about."

"Not with the way she was glowering at their pod. It's them."

"Weird. How... intense... they are would explain why Tash was taking their getting here seriously, but not why *Shanu's* paying attention."

"There's something going on here that no one's told us about."

"Figured that out all by yourself, did you?"

"Oh, shut up."

#####

The hadesopter controls were relatively intuitive, especially compared to, for example, John's module. (Although D'Argo had always, ever since he was little, seemed to find the module's controls very easy to understand. Unfortunately.) That let her pay close attention to the various other vehicles careening around the currently unregulated atmosphere of Nebari Prime, and still listen to John talk to the others back on Moya. Or the others talk amongst themselves.

"I can't believe the Resistance is behind this," Pax was saying bitterly, for the third time. "First the Collapse, now this. We never should've let Aunt Chi go off with them!"

"Pax," D'Argo said, "it's not really a matter of *letting*--"

"We should have checked to make sure they weren't all -- nihilistic psychopaths!"

"Pax--"

"Pax!" John cut in. "We are payin' for your diplomatic education. You want to try showing us you're gettin' something out of it?"

Aeryn mentally saluted John as that at least lowered Pax's volume. "Fine. I'm very *angry* and *disappointed*."

"Aren't we all. Anyway, Pilot, we're hoping you can get a transport pod fitted out with some souped-up sensors."

"Of course. It will take a few arns."

"It will take some arns to get to the site," Aeryn said. "It's almost on the other side of the planet." And that was pushing the hadesopter. She frowned as a Traoist ship shot up past them, apparently pursued by a small Luxan craft.

"Wouldn't it be faster to take the transport pod?" Pax asked.

"Not diplomatic either, Pax," D'Argo replied before John could say anything. "And no, not in atmosphere. Transport pods have more power than atmospherics, but they're a lot less aerodynamic. Well, depending on the atmospheric..."

Pax sighed noisily. "And you couldn't take the Prowler because someone would have misinterpreted it as invading Peacekeepers."

"Correct," John said. "And besides, if we took the transport pod Sikozu'd probably have someone tailing us. No one pays any attention to hadesopters, which is good for all sorts of reasons. Dee, can you bring the pod down to wherever we are when Pilot's done with it? Then take the hadesopter back to New Eblekk, and that pod back to Moya..."

There was just a microt of hesitation before D'Argo's "Of course." Aeryn wondered what else he was planning to be doing.

"Dee--" John said, and Aeryn wondered if he'd noticed the hesitation, too.

"I'll be careful, Dad. I'm twenty-five, I know what I'm doing. Trust me."

"We do," John said. "We do." He paused, and while Aeryn didn't dare take her eyes off the Interion shuttle which couldn't seem to decide where it was going, she imagined he was swallowing. "Just -- take care. Um. Oh -- apparently there's a really powerful scanning... thing which might be useful if it was working. Its software is corrupted. Pilot, Sikozu thought you might be able to help."

"Possibly," Pilot said slowly. "If they are attempting to create the systems from basic components up, I may be of use, given some time to study the structure. I am not familiar with any system they want to reconstruct."

"Well, it's there if you think it's worth a try. Although I'm not sure the invite's still open since we've taken off."

"It will be open," Aeryn said. "She really wants that installation operational. And probably under her control, not the Sheyang's."

Pax muttered something mostly unintelligible about Sheyang. "Can I -- no, never mind."

"What was that?"

"Something undiplomatic."

"Okay," D'Argo said. "Fix up transport pod sensors, comm you to get location, bring pod down, take hadesopter to -- um -- New Eblekk, take other pod back here. Also, look into Sikozu's surveillance thing, but that's up to Pilot."

"As soon as possible," Pilot said. "Anything Moya and I can do to help, we will."

Of course they would. "Thank you, Pilot," she said, trying to convey in her voice the gratitude she couldn't quite express in words. "And thank Moya, too."

"Thank you," John echoed. "And good luck with Sputnik. Dee, I think that about covers it. Except all of you stay safe."

"You, too," D'Argo said softly. "And for the love of Chilnack get backup if you need it."

"And kick their nihilistic asses."

And with that, they closed the connection.

John sat back. "So. A few arns yet to get there?"

"Four more," Aeryn said.

And then they would find their daughter and bring her home.

And nothing would stand in their way.

#####

"That can't possibly be true."

"I don't know, it makes a little sense..."

"No. No way. ...You really think so?"

"I'm beginning to."

"Think about it. Peacekeepers-only-not, everyone who knows who they are is impressed with them, wary of them, something of them, they showed up in a Leviathan transport pod..."

"You think Zhaan's not fully Sebacean?"

"No, we know *that*. Don't you? It's in her medical profile -- she's half Sebacean, half... Sebacean cousin species. *Unspecified* Sebacean cousin species. Frell, I'm beginning to think you're right..."

"Well -- oh, dren."

"What?"

"I *know* he's right."

"Huh?"

"We've all been really, really blind."

"Will you please explain what you're talking about?"

"Any of you ever tried to dissect Zhaan's family name?"


	8. Unsupervised Children

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 7: Unsupervised Children, in which D'Argo wanders off without permission, Pax talks to strangers, and Zhaan fails to adhere to the Kidnappee's Handbook.

Pilot directed several DRDs to the maintenance bay and started considering the sensor improvements, even as most of his attention remained on the children in Command.

"So what was that last undiplomatic thing you didn't say?" D'Argo asked Pax as soon as the comms channel closed.

She shrugged. "I was going to ask if I could liaise with Sikozu."

Yes, that would be rather undiplomatic. Or at least likely to start an argument. Of course, Pax was always much easier to deal with when she had something to do, especially something she felt was useful.

D'Argo must have been thinking along similar lines, because he hesitated, then said "Ask Pilot."

"You're not going to argue with me?" his sister asked incredulously. "Don't tell me you're finally dropping the overprotective big brother thing."

"I'm not overprotective, and it's not dangerous if you *stay here*. Ask *Pilot*," he pointed at the clamshell, "whether he wants any help. In a little while."

"What?"

"Right now, you're going to come help me check on Ry. He'll be up from his nap soon. Think of it as demonstrating responsibility." He snagged her arm and towed her out into the corridor.

Ksenia, who'd been sitting quietly against the wall of Command, lost in her own thoughts, looked up, with a twitch of her mouth. "Not Dee's most *subtle* diversion ever -- but of course, he's not the aspiring diplomat. Did you want to work on the sensors first, or...?"

"I can work on both simultaneously," Pilot reassured her. She was nervous enough already.

"I guess since we know it's the Resistance, this really does seem like a good idea," she muttered.

"We do not *know* it's the Resistance," Pilot said. He, too, was having difficulty accepting the hypothesis that the 'good guys' were behind young Zhaan's abduction. Neither he nor Moya could think of the Resistance without thinking of Chiana. (And there was still no word of Chiana, save that single comm signal. It was hard not to conclude the worst. Especially as she would never have allowed an abduction, not of Eleemosynaries, not of *Zhaan*...)

Ksenia sighed. "I wish I could be as surprised as the rest of you are, but... rebellions are vicious things. Although we at least managed never to attack people who came to help us..."

There was little to say to that. "I am attempting to contact the ship now."

"It's the ~Volmae~," Ksenia said, though she'd told him before.

"Yes," Pilot said patiently, "but Sykaran identification beacons take some time to interpret. We're working through them." At her frown, he clarified, "There are twenty-five Sykaran ships present. Moya and I have scanned ten of them."

Ksenia's frown deepened. "Twenty-five? That's almost half the fleet. Frell, Rish, what are you *doing* here...?"

The question wasn't really directed at him, but Pilot answered anyway. "Most of them are moving around a great deal, mostly in agricultural and undeveloped areas. Some are stationary at an agricultural center."

"That's the only part that makes sense. And even that doesn't make *much* sense, since there are other planets in Nebari space with plenty of room and fewer disturbances."

"Though many of them are being occupied by Peacekeepers or Scarrans," Pilot pointed out. It was the heart of Nebari space that was being left as a buffer between the two great powers. //And divided up between all the rest of the would-be powers.//

"True." There was a silence, as he looked. Ksenia tended not to pace, but as she leaned back on a console her fingers were drumming rapidly on her leg.

There. "I've located the ~Volmae~," Pilot informed her. "Should I comm it immediately?"

"Uh, um, yes. I know most of the crew... If the main comm won't work -- they might've shut it down because of the computer worm -- you could try, um, something *simpler*. Some of the ships have, what is it, some communication thing that only moves at the speed of light..."

Radio, maybe. But it wasn't needed -- the standard comm fuzzed through, audio only, after a few microts of crackling. "~Volmae~," the person on the other end said tersely.

Pilot looked at Ksenia, who stepped forward. "Nandru? Right?"

A crackly pause. "Who is this?"

"Ksenia. I'm in orbit. Is Rishor there?"

"I'm getting him." Then, a bit fainter, but still clearly audible, "Rishor! Your runaway sister is on the comm!"

#####

"I can't believe they just took off like that," Pax complained, leaning forward over Pilot's console. "They gave me maybe half an arn's warning! And there is no *way* Mom and Dad knew they were going to do that."

"I don't believe they discussed it, no," Pilot agreed.

"And they took Ry. Ry! It's too dangerous for *me* to go down, but *Ry*!"

Pilot looked noncommittal. "I believe they will be keeping Ry on a very short leash. Possibly literally."

Pax darted a suspicious look in his direction, wondering if he was trying to imply anything about *her* and a leash. //Well, if he is, it probably means I'm getting on his nerves and should stop if I want him to let me talk to Sikozu.// So, how to avoid too abrupt a conversational transition... "I hope they're back before that pod with improved sensors is ready, because I'm sure Mom and Dad wouldn't want me flying a pod around Nebari Prime, and *I* don't think I could handle a hadesopter. But I suppose it's probably something important and useful, not just popping off to visit random Sykarans."

"Ksenia is hoping they may have information," Pilot said. "It seems Sykar has sold munitions to the Nebari Resistance in the past."

"All right. That makes sense. Although D'Argo could have told me that." //If he'd mentioned they were leaving more than half an arn beforehand.// She sighed inwardly. "So... *do* you want any help talking to Sikozu?"

Pilot tilted his head thoughtfully. "Are you intending to be diplomatic or... emulate your father?"

"You mean, am I going to be obnoxious?" Folding her arms on the console, Pax rested her chin on them. "I really *can* be diplomatic, you know, Pilot. Seriously. I just, um... I just..."

"Don't?"

"Not with family. Not so much." She offered a hopeful smile. "Give me a chance? I won't be obnoxious -- well, unless *she* gets really obnoxious--"

"There is a small problem in that an adolescent Crichton being diplomatic might be disconcerting enough to be obnoxious itself."

"Well, it's not my fault if she has preconceived opinions about me."

"So long as you realize it may be difficult," Pilot said.

//Oh, *good*!//

There was a bit of a wait while Pilot figured out how to comm Sikozu -- he actually had to contact the Eleemosynaries to get the information -- but eventually they got through. "Is this the office of Sikozu Svala Shanti Sugaysi Shanu?" Pax asked smoothly.

There was a pause, followed by "Um, yes," while someone else hissed "Her name is all *that*?" in the background.

"Would you please tell her that Pilot would like to speak to her about the programming?"

"Uh, yes, just a moment," the first person said. There was the sound of movement, then some indistinguishable voices -- though Pilot might have been able to make them out.

They didn't have to wait long. "Pilot?" another voice said.

"Yes, Sikozu," Pilot said.

Pax leaned forward. "We understand you are looking for assistance with software for an orbital installation?"

There was a brief, suspicious silence. "Who is that?"

Oh, right -- Sikozu would have no idea who she was, or at least no way to recognize her voice. "I'm sorry, I didn't introduce myself. My name is Pax Sun Crichton."

The hissed words which followed were all in Kalish, all unintelligible, and all completely unfamiliar. Pax hoped Pilot was recording this -- she had some Kalish classmates back at the Institute who she could ask for a translation.

#####

The cluster of Sykaran ships was clear enough once you knew where to look, and in a nice flat field -- no problem at all to get the pod down there. Dee shot a glance at Ksenia. She still couldn't seem to sit still. "Hey," he said gently. "I thought I was supposed to be the one nervous about this."

"I think you were more nervous than me when I met your family," she replied. "Besides. I'm not worried about you meeting Rishor, I'm worried about him harping about how I broke Dad's heart. And Mom's heart. And Neaga's heart. And so on."

"They can't seriously want you to bring Ry back to Sykar."

"I don't know *what* they want."

"Look on it as an opportunity to patch things up," he suggested. She might not talk about it, but he *knew* Ksenia regretted the estrangement from her family, even as she stuck by her position.

"Ships!" Ry put in. Apparently he felt he'd been out of the conversation too long. "See ships!"

Ksenia managed a smile. "Yes, Ry, one of those is your Uncle Rishor's ship."

Ry looked a little nonplussed. Come to think of it, he hadn't had an 'uncle' before. "Ry down!"

"Not until we've landed, Ry," Dee said firmly. "Just a little bit longer."

"Ry down!"

"In a bit. We're almost there." And land... right *there*, in a convenient gap. Done. Transport pod should be close at hand, just in case.

It wasn't that he was really worried the Sykarans would try to kidnap Ksenia and Ry. And if they made any moves in that direction, he could drop the Guess-Who-My-Parents-Are bomb, which would probably do the trick. But it was best to be prepared.

A small crowd seemed to have gathered a few motras away from the pod stairs. D'Argo looked out over a sea of white-blond hair and heavily tanned faces. "How many of them do you know?" he murmured.

"I don't know. Maybe about half? Oh, there's Rishor."

D'Argo lagged behind with Ry, letting Ksenia go down first. She hesitated for a microt, then went briskly forward to clasp the hand of the guy in front, then hug him. There was a family resemblance, under the tan.

"Rishor," she said, voice steady.

"Ksenia," he acknowledged, then seemed to notice the crowd. "Hey! Find something to do, all right?" As they dispersed, he turned back to Ksenia. "It's been a while."

She shrugged. "I'd like you to meet D'Argo and Ry." She gave D'Argo a quick wave, and he came down to join her.

"Hi!" Ry chirped.

That got a smile out of the guy. "Hello, Ry."

Ksenia smiled, too. "Ry, this is your Uncle Rishor."

"Rish-sher," Ry repeated. "Risssssshhhhh-sher. Hi, Rish-sher!"

D'Argo chuckled. "Not too bad. He'll get it eventually. He called one of my sisters 'Pask' for quite a while--"

"Not Pask. Paksssssss!"

"Anyway. Good to meet some of Ksenia's family." D'Argo shifted Ry to his hip and offered a hand. "D'Argo Suncrichton." And the lame cover was...

"Rishor, son of Ionel. Good to meet you, too. Finally."

...Accepted. As usual. //Never fails to astound me.//

They made polite conversation for a while, focusing mainly on the weather on Nebari Prime, the weather on Arnessk, Flight Academy food, Ry's expanding vocabulary, and the variety of food up for grabs on Nebari Prime -- Rishor had gotten quite eloquent about that last. Sometimes they got more serious; D'Argo had given his edited background -- ex-Peacekeeper mother, father from Sebacean cousin species, two little sisters, grew up in space -- and Rishor talked a little about how Ksenia's parents were doing. Apparently their father had "a rash", which for some reason got Ksenia very worried. He'd have to ask her later.

Eventually, Ksenia got around to the second part of the agenda. "Truth is, we aren't just here to reconnect." She passed Ry back to Dee.

Rishor nodded slowly. "I thought that might be the case. If you think Sykar isn't safe, Nebari Prime..."

"Well, it's *environmentally* safer," Ksenia said. "But anyway. I don't know how much attention you've been paying to the rumors around here, but have you heard that some Eleemosynary medics were kidnapped?"

"Something about that, yes..."

"One of them is D'Argo's sister."

"Ah."

"The best information we have is that it was the Resistance that did it." Ksenia leaned forward. "I know Sykar was selling ammunition to the Resistance. We were hoping some of those contacts might still be good. We want to ask them to let the Eleemosynaries go -- we have some pretty convincing reasons -- and if they didn't do it, well, we need to know."

Rishor sighed, and was quiet for a few microts. "Your sister?" he said at last, looking at D'Argo.

"She's nineteen," Dee said quietly. "Studying to be a doctor."

"I don't suppose she'd be interested in moving to Sykar?" He held up a hand. "No, I know, not a good time to joke." He looked away for a moment. "Our Resistance contacts -- we're in contact with them *now*."

"You are?!" Ksenia sat back. "I thought no one was in contact with anyone else!"

Rishor shrugged. "They had communicators off the network -- more secure, I guess, for big things like black-market transactions. They got in touch with us about the time everybody else starting moving in here, had a proposition. A lot of Nebari ships are nonfunctional from that worm thing, any that are flying around are noticed -- but no one pays attention to us. We're just Sykarans, whoever heard of them, we can go almost anywhere and no one cares."

"You're transporting them," Dee said.

"Every day," Rishor confirmed.

"That's... really very clever. What are you getting out of it?"

"Salvage rights." The Sykaran half-smiled. "Foodstuffs, minerals, weapons, equipment -- we've upgraded some of these ships, Kess, you'd probably notice if you took a look inside -- guides to where stuff can be found... They're even offering us space for a colony, though I don't know that we'll take it."

"A colony *here*?" Ksenia looked extremely dubious. "I know I said it was environmentally healthier, but..."

That could wait. "Will you put us in touch with them?" D'Argo asked urgently.

"Yes," Rishor replied. "Getting them to talk to you is your problem, though."

"I'm sure we'll think of something," Ksenia said. "Thank you, Rish. Very much."

"Thank you," D'Argo seconded. "We owe you one. And -- oh, *dren*, we'd better get back -- that pod has to be almost ready by now, and if I leave Pax to fly it down *everyone* will kill me--"

#####

They were awakened by a shower of cold water from the hose. Zhaan wasn't sure, but it felt like the pressure was higher, this time. It stung. She flung up a hand to shield her face. "Dren, what are they doing *now*?"

"Up!" someone -- Tygo, probably -- screamed at them. "All of you, up, now!" Another spray from the hose.

Zhaan staggered to her feet, lost her balance on the uncertain footing of the grain, and fell into the silo wall. "Frell," she muttered.

Renyr was up. Tacer was up. Agnola was up. Fedele was struggling up, with help from Orek. Nach was kneeling by Gervis, who looked awake, but not exactly mobile.

"Up!" Tygo roared again.

"Just a *microt*," Nach hissed.

Zhaan didn't think it was loud enough for Tygo to hear over his own ranting, but a pulse blast thudded into the grain just denches from Nach, who jerked back, eyes wide.

"Get up now! Anyone not up will be shot!"

Orek and Renyr hurried to help Nach get Gervis upright, and keep her upright. Zhaan stared up at Tygo and his cronies, keeping her mouth shut by sheer force of will. //Bastards. You frelling bastards. We never did *anything* to you...//

When they were all more or less standing, Tygo turned away for a microt -- maybe speaking to someone behind him? -- then went back to glaring at them. Shortly afterwards, there was a sort of creaking noise, and the grain began to spill away. All of them fell down again. Zhaan had to bring up her arms to keep from smacking her head on the wall.

//Bastards. Bastards. Bastards.//

It took a moment to figure out what had happened -- there must have been another access panel in the silo, like the one they'd been tossed in through, but below the current grain level. It probably wasn't supposed to be used unless the level was lower, or, as had just happened, grain would spill out.

//I hope some of them were buried in it.//

The Eleemosynaries spilled out along with the grain and ended up in a heap. Zhaan heard Gervis gasp, and Fedele yelp, and even Tacer sucked in a breath. They'd barely slid to a stop when the Nebari -- the *kidnappers* -- were wading in and dragging them to their feet. The footing wasn't good, but at least it was only a little (dry, dusty) grain over a solid floor. She kept her head down, but studied them surreptitiously. Most of them looked pretty young, though probably out of adolescence. About two-thirds were male. Clothing was... ordinary, as far as *she* could tell.

And there was Tygo -- she recognized that bulky shape striding in like he owned the place. Which he did, effectively, she guessed. He looked older than his henchmen. Middle-aged, maybe, which put him at well over a hundred cycles. She was getting better at judging Nebari ages.

He sneered at them. "Not so mighty now, are you?"

They stayed quiet. What could they say? They'd never been mighty, they were medics, they were harmless, but if he believed that he'd probably kill them. But they didn't have anything else to say...

"You see?" Tygo said. See what? "They're nothing much. Nothing we can't take." Oh, he was giving a pep talk, with them as illustrations. Charming. "We don't need to fear them. Be cautious, yes -- but there's no reason to fear them." He gave his prisoners a contemptuous look. "Out of their ships, they're at our mercy."

//Yeah, try kidnapping a patrol of Luxans and see how much *they're* at your mercy.// A thought occurred to her. //Frell, he didn't *intentionally* kidnap non-threatening medics just to inspire his troops, did he? Dren.//

Tygo stalked along the line of prisoners, still sneering. Maybe his face had frozen like that. He stopped in front of Tacer. "Our would-be hero, I see. Do you think you're brave?"

"I think I've had training," Tacer replied immediately. "More than you, apparently. Are you *trying* to get your people killed, or are you just stupid?"

Tygo responded by punching him, aiming for the bloody hole in his smock. Tacer doubled over, hugging himself, but didn't make a sound.

//Speaking of stupid,// Zhaan thought. Interesting, though, that she wasn't the only one to notice Tygo was giving his troops a misleading impression. //I think he just actually admitted he's had military training. Whatever species he is. And you just want to think about anything except what's happening, don't you, Zee?//

After dismissing Nach and Orek as unimportant with a glance -- hadn't he noticed Nach was more or less taking charge? -- Tygo turned his sneer on Renyr. "Disgusting." Renyr, wisely, kept his mouth shut, just eying Tygo warily, until the man moved on to Fedele, Gervis, and Agnola. "You collaborators are the worst sort of scum. Betraying your own people."

"Whatever you think of us," Nach said, "all *they* were doing was helping with medical care. They were *helping* their people. Saving lives. Alleviating suffering. How is that a betrayal?"

"Shut up, Banik," Tygo ordered. "I'm not interested in talking to slaves."

And that, apparently, was *more* than enough for Orek, not that Zhaan blamed him. "I'd ask if we need to be wearing placards saying NOT A SLAVE in all major languages, except no one else on this frelling planet has had any trouble figuring it out."

Tygo slugged him, and sneered some more. Definitely froze that way. Orek managed not to ask if that was the best Tygo could do, though Zhaan could almost see him thinking it. Fortunately their captors weren't so good with Banik facial expressions. Which was probably because most or all of them had never seen a Banik before, but Zhaan preferred to lump it in with everything resulting from them being bigoted, small-minded, willfully blind, thoughtless, cruel, idiotic *smegheads*.

//You were supposed to be the good guys,// a small part of her cried out, sounding suspiciously like that little girl who'd so idolized her Aunt Chiana. //You were supposed to be heroes.//

No. *No*. She was *not* going to let these... *people* taint one *iota* of Aunt Chiana and Aunt Chiana's Resistance.

"You call us disgusting?" She didn't realize she was going to speak until she heard herself, and then couldn't seem to stop. "You're disgusting. You'd rather kidnap some doctors than do anything about the people who are *really* causing problems. You're standing here making nasty remarks while what's left of your planet is tearing itself apart. Are you sure you're in the Resistance? You seem more like the Establishment to me. Or just a gang of *thugs*!"

She'd been shouting. When had she started shouting?

//Yes, and *now* who's not following the Kidnappee's Handbook?//


	9. No Compromise with Tyranny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 8: No Compromise With Tyranny, in which various Resistance members act according to various strategies, and Zhaan changes her mind regarding parental intervention.

Something was not right in the glebe control center. What could it be? Ruber was in the medical corner, with everything working as well as it was going to; Gevi was sitting by the emergency radio receiver, looking inexpressibly bored; Amata had made Vieri take his little degrol-meat-drying experiment outside and cleaned up after him; so whatever could be wrong?

"Gevi? What happened to that wall?" she asked evenly. Four -- no, five panels had been pried off and dumped in a sloppy stack. The... mechanics or whatever inside the wall had been gutted. Some of the pieces were scattered around the floor.

"Uh, Palma and Rossi. They said they wanted to try something, and carried some of it outside."

Chiana nodded. "Right. Palma and Rossi." They must have thought they could do something with the components of... whatever. "Thanks, Gevi."

//This is *not* what I signed up for,// she groused as she went back outside. //Governing refugees. Aauuggghh. Isn't there an Establishment office I could break into somewhere?// And Vieri and Amata had *not* been as helpful as she'd hoped when she realized how out of her depth she was getting. They might consider themselves more experienced -- *might* actually be more experienced -- but *all* of them had been in urban cells, sliding around the edges of society, not standing out on their own apart from it. Chiana had spent some time running with Nerri, in the middle of the shooting war, but she hadn't been in charge. Vieri had spent some time in a cell out in the undeveloped regions, but he hadn't been in charge. Everyone else had even less of a clue.

"Anyone know where Palma and Rossi are?" she asked the yard at large. Several people pointed at the Zenetan ship. "Thanks." She detoured back to get a lightstick, then approached the ship and looked up the open hatch before climbing in -- her arm, at least, had improved somewhat. She found herself in a dark, stuffy corridor. //Stinky Zenetans. We should name this thing. Maybe the ~Dren~.// "Rossi, you in here? Palma?"

"This way!" Rossi called from somewhere in the darkness.

She eventually located Palma and Rossi in what was probably the ship's pathetic Command -- it actually had a viewport, so it wasn't so dark (though still stuffy). They were disassembling things in here, too. "What are you two doing in here?"

"Well, I got this idea," Rossi said. "Part of the problem is that we're out of communication with everything because the computers are fried. The computer on this piece of dren probably *isn't* fried, but it's not very good, we're not quite sure how to use it, and it's not set up for -- uh -- our *particular* communications stuff."

For secure Resistance channels, he meant. //At least that would be someone to contact first.// "You think you can fix that? With the parts which you decided were spare parts and tore out of the wall?"

Rossi looked only slightly sheepish. "Well... maybe. We're going to try."

"But this thing isn't running on full power, either," Palma warned. "Won't be unless we start it up."

"And won't that be fun." Chiana sighed. "Well... if you want to tear out anything else, come ask me first." She started to turn to leave, then decided she owed it to herself to be a little more honest. "So I can help." She started to turn to leave again, but this time something she'd seen caught up with her and she went back to frown out the viewport. "What's that, I wonder."

"Chiana?" Rossi asked.

The viewport wasn't as dirty as she might have expected, but she couldn't see much more than the faraway movement that had caught her attention. "Do either of you know if there are any magnoculars in the glebe?"

Rossi blinked. "Uh, yeah. Right here." He held up a pair, which he must have been using to fuss with the wiring.

"Great, thanks." It took a little fine-tuning to get around the reflection from the viewport, but when she did... "Ground vehicles," she said. "Three... four ground vehicles. Good ones. Full of armed Nebari."

"Oh, dren," Palma said.

Rossi went to look, too, though he probably couldn't see much of anything. "But it *might* be the Resistance."

"Maybe if they weren't driving precisely in a straight line."

"Oh."

Palma, too, abandoned the computer guts. "Are they coming this way?"

"Looks like it."

"Dren."

//You said it.//

Chiana left Palma and Rossi with orders to try to get the Zenetan ship spaceworthy -- or at least able to take off -- and clambered out as fast as she could, taking the magnoculars. "Has anyone seen Vieri?" she called. Apparently Vieri was not as memorable as Palma and Rossi carrying armloads of computer guts, but eventually she found him behind the degrol barn looking at his meat-drying experiment, which seemed to have been partially eaten by something. "We have a problem."

He looked up, alert -- maybe something in her tone. "What is it?" Keeping her voice down, she explained what she'd seen. Vieri grimaced. "Establishment."

"Looks like it to me. We couldn't defend the control center even if we didn't have the refugees, so I'm thinking we should try to get everyone into the Zenetan ship, or at least the noncombatants."

Their collection of noncombatants included the eleven civilians who'd hiked in from the next glebe over, eight civilians in some way connected to her Resistance people who'd come to the glebe with them (four of them kids), and the badly wounded Ruber. Also possibly Rossi. And maybe Amata, she wasn't sure. And two of the friends-of-Resistance-members might be able to fight in a pinch, along with maybe one or two of the other civilians. This was getting way too complicated.

"Right," Vieri said.

There was a long pause. //Oh, great, he's waiting for me to take charge. *Now* they decide I'm the most experienced and qualified.// Of course she probably was. Well, she'd gotten her wish about something more active happening. //What was I *thinking*?// Frell!

#####

//Frell, frell, dren, yotz, shit, damn, hell, *fuck*.// She should have kept her mouth shut. She really, really should have kept her mouth shut. The Nebari who built this place should have put handrails on the stairs. The Nebari who'd taken over this place shouldn't have left so much loose grain on the stairs. Dammit!

No thanks to Pushy -- or possibly a different Pushy than before -- Zhaan made it down the stairs without falling and cracking her head open, but she hadn't taken two more steps before someone tripped her and she went sprawling, barely catching herself with her still-cuffed hands, scraping them on the floor in the process. As someone dragged her up again, she looked quickly around -- yes, they'd definitely left the others behind, and sent them back to the silo, or something, and she was being hauled along by what looked like a couple of thugs.

//Not good. This isn't good.// She'd barely found her balance when they shoved her towards the door to the outside. //Oh, goddess, they're going to kill me. They're going to stand me up against the wall and shoot me.// Her parents, she could try telling them about her parents -- but what if they decided she was useful enough they could dispose of the others? //Oh, goddess, I don't want to die.//

"I'm *sorry*," she tried, as they pushed her out the door. "I'm sorry I said that, I was just upset, I didn't mean it--" All true but the last.

Thug #1 just shoved her forward. But they weren't turning back towards the building wall, they were heading for Tygo, who was standing by -- a water trough?

//I thought this was a grain-growing glebe,// she thought inanely. Maybe it rotated...

The thugs pushed her right up to the trough. There were a few leaves, what looked like three empty beverage containers, and other odds and ends floating in the water, but at least it wasn't discolored. Especially good that it wasn't discolored because she'd barely gotten there when the thugs pushed her head under for a microt. She came up sputtering, and found Tygo sneering at her over the trough. //Not good, not good, not good, not good--//

"Tell us about the invasion!" he yelled. "What are you Royal bastards doing next?"

She stared back uncomprehendingly. "What -- what's that supposed to mean? I'm an Eleemosynary, not anyone's military. I'm not even from the Royal -- no, don't--"

Thug #2 twisted a hand in her hair, and forced her head down into the trough. Zhaan struggled uselessly. Even with a grip on the trough rim, she couldn't push away. The thugs were too thuggy. And she couldn't breathe, couldn't breathe -- had to breathe--

They dragged her up, and she sucked in a frantic grasp. There was water in her nose, and she started wheezing.

"What are they planning?" Tygo yelled again. "Talk!"

"I don't know anything! I'm just -- no, I swear I don't--"

The trough again. //Stay calm, stay calm... Goddess I need to breathe...// Her parents had survived the Aurora Chair and Scarran interrogation, she could handle one lousy livestock trough... //Air, air, air, *please*...//

She was seeing stars before they let her have another breath, and then it was right back in the trough. //Aw, no, *please*...//

Maybe Nebari could hold their breath longer than Sebaceans. Maybe they were going to drown her. Maybe her head was going to explode. It hurt, it hurt so bad, and she needed to *breathe*--

"All right!" she cried when they pulled her up again. "All right, just -- *stop*!"

Tygo smiled grimly. "Good. Talk, you bitch."

"We're, we're here to help." She couldn't implicate the others in... whatever. "But I might've *heard* things!"

"I'm waiting!"

Invasions, intrigue, what was he *expecting*, damn it... "Commandant Vader. It's Commandant Darth Vader that's behind it."

"A Peacekeeper?"

"Y-yes." Damn, what else, what *else*... "He wants Peacekeeper control of Nebari Prime. He's not -- it's not a conspiracy with the Royal Planet, just the local commander." Whose name she hadn't been able to recall during the memory game, either. Good thing Tygo probably didn't know it. "They're hoping -- um, they're hoping if things get really chaotic, the Peacekeepers will be invited in. And can take over." She coughed again. "I'm just an intern! People don't tell me things!" Believe it, please believe it, please...

"Fine," Tygo said after a moment. "Take her back to the others."

The thugs dragged her to her feet; her knees buckled. They laughed, and dragged her up again. This time she managed to stagger back inside, but she tripped on the stairs, fell, and smacked her forehead on a step. They laughed again as she huddled with her stinging hands to her head, blood in her eyes, dirty grain dust everywhere. //Frell, another blow to the head. If they've killed me, I hope they get in trouble.//

As they half-carried her up the rest of the stairs, she thought, //Frell that. I hope my parents come annihilate them and take me to a medic.//

#####

The thing was, straight-out defending the control center wasn't going to work well even with the noncombatants out of the way. Some people -- naming no names, *Rilla* -- seemed perfectly happy with the idea of making a suicidal last stand, but for her part Chiana wanted to beat the bastards. (And she'd let 'suicidal last stand' hurt later. Right now she was *busy*.)

"Everyone *stay hidden* and *do not shoot* until after Surprise Attack One," she emphasized. "If they start shooting before we can pull off Surprise Attack One--"

"That's if we can do it at all," Palma muttered.

Chiana ignored it. "If they start shooting first, we go straight to Surprise Attack Two. If they *don't*, and we *do* pull off Surprise Attack One, *then* we start shooting. Try to actually aim. We're not rolling in ammunition." They weren't rolling in sharpshooters, either, so they were probably going to have to expend a lot of ammunition if they wanted to actually hit anything, but it was worth mentioning. (They were in fact frelling lucky there had been weapons in the Zenetan ship, or else most of them would have been armed with agricultural implements.) "Surprise Attack Two will be a little while after that. Amata will choose when." With no input from or warning to anyone else, because they didn't have any handheld comms -- or any other kind of comms -- and shouting about your surprise attack was counterproductive.

"How long until they get here?" asked Gevi.

She looked back at the approaching vehicles. They were close enough now that everyone could see them, and with the magnoculars she could pick out faces on the soldiers. //Definitely Establishment.// She wondered whether they'd missed the Transmission or been immune. "Not sure. Probably under half an arn. We should be getting into position." Where they'd be fidgeting for however long it took for the Establishment to arrive, but better safe than sorry. //Can't believe I thought that.//

Everyone moved off to their hastily determined defensive positions, except Rossi and Palma, who went back on the Zenetan ship. She could have used Palma and Palma's aim outside, but Rossi had no hope of piloting on his own.

She'd tried to spread the relatively-experienced people out. This meant she was stuck with Rilla and two civilians who barely knew which end of their Zenetan guns to hold, but never mind. She wondered if she should confiscate Rilla's weapon until it was actually time to start shooting. Maybe not.

They waited, and waited and waited and waited, and by a third of an arn later, it felt like they'd been waiting for days and she'd had to make one of the civilians stop playing with the fasteners on his shoes before he drove the rest of them fahrbot. It was a relief when the Establishment vehicles rolled in. Mostly. //Come on, Palma, come on, come on...//

The vehicles didn't stop as closely together as she'd hoped, but the Establishment's people only got out of two of them. They started spreading out, slowly, the apparent leader making sharp gestures rather than spoken orders. They didn't seem to have spotted anyone yet, which was good, but they couldn't get much further in without bumping into somebody.

//Come on, come on, come on...//

The Zenetan ship hiccuped, shuddered, and belched out a cloud of fumes before lurching upwards. The Establishment soldiers spun towards it, and one even fired, for all the good a hand weapon would do. The ship didn't go very far, or very high, before making a rather wild half-turn and plunging back down into the yard, directly on top of the two still-full vehicles. There was a rather awful noise.

//Yes!//

There went half -- almost, some of them had gotten out of the way -- the Establishment's soldiers and most of their composure. The remainder were still shooting at the Zenetan ship when Chiana's people hidden in the buildings around them opened fire.

They couldn't count on victory yet. They were still outnumbered, and didn't seem to actually be *hitting* all that much, and unlike her people the Establishment's probably knew what they were doing, and unfortunately the shooting would let them figure out where people were hiding. But it was a good start. She tried to identify the leader. Maybe they'd already squashed him.

Someone screamed over near the barn, and Chiana flinched, but didn't stop picking targets and firing. She couldn't identify who it was by the scream. She hoped it wasn't one of hers, but-- //Frell, who am I kidding. They're all mine.// Beside her, Rilla was firing -- not quite wildly, but she wasn't aiming carefully. The civilians were going a lot slower, which was probably just as well given their lack of experience.

Someone else screamed. //All right, Amata, this would be a good time for Surprise Attack Two...// Chiana twisted around to look over towards Amata's post. //Oh, frell. She's pinned.// Now what?

The Establishment soldiers had taken cover behind their remaining vehicles, although unfortunately it looked like they also had someone keeping an eye on the Zenetan ship. They hadn't lost many to gunfire. Not good. What were they even doing here, anyway? There was nothing worthwhile, nothing remotely *interesting* in this glebe except them, and even they weren't doing anything exciting. Maybe they wanted the ship.

Another cry, and then Vieri's nephew was falling out into the open. Frell, frell, frell. The kid was barely postadolescent, and had argued hard against being counted a noncombatant. She checked the pulse pistol at her waist, then handed her big Zenetan carbine to Rilla, who seemed to be running low on power anyway. "Cover me," she ordered, and ran out.

She ducked and wove across the yard, expecting to be hit at any moment, but got to Vieri's nephew. She'd been right, he was alive, good -- conscious, even. She dragged on his arm. "Come on, equipment shed--" She ducked a blast that came way too close. He was having trouble getting up. That was a weird shadow. She glanced quickly up, and there did seem to be something silhouetted against the sun, but there wasn't any time as she dragged the kid to temporary shelter behind a water trough. //Oh, dren, we're all going to get killed.//

And then the mysterious shadow got a lot bigger really fast, and the Establishment troops got buzzed by a *Leviathan transport pod*. //What the *frell*?//

The Establishment troops were apparently unfamiliar with Leviathan tech and didn't realize it couldn't shoot at them -- or else they were afraid they were going to get landed on again -- because a *lot* of attention shifted immediately to the pod. Chiana took full advantage of it and got Vieri's nephew the rest of the way to the equipment shed, where Gevi helped them in, before turning to look again. Yes, definitely a Leviathan transport pod, circling just out of range of the Establishment weapons. //Nahhhh, couldn't be...//

At that point she was distracted by the barn opening and a stampede of panicked degrol charging out directly at the Establishment soldiers. Apparently Amata had taken advantage of the lull to execute Surprise Attack Two.


	10. Pointwise Convergence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 9: Pointwise Convergence, in which there is a not-a-first meeting, a really-not-a-first meeting, no meeting, and a first meeting (in that order).

"Sikozu?" Colosa sounded a little more cautious than usual. She must have heard that Sikozu was still recovering from a... trying... comm conversation. "There's someone called Stykera Stark here to see you."

"Send him in," Sikozu said wearily. She'd had far too much time to get to know Stark during the business with the Kalish emigrants and Nron. //He probably won't be any worse than the Eleemosynaries already are. Maybe he'll even rein in Sun and Crichton.// Ha. Faint hope.

Stark entered and nodded a greeting. "Sikozu."

"Stark." Beyond the doorway -- she really had to find someone to fix that frelling door -- Colosa and a young Banik man were eying each other warily. "Have you already been by Moya? Crichton and Sun are off on some sort of fool's chase across the gleben, and they've left their youngest in charge of the ship.

"Pax?" Stark asked.

"Something like that. She seems to think she needs to act as go-between between me and Pilot."

The Stykera nodded. "She's a student at the Yondalao Institute of Diplomatic Education."

"I'm not sure how relevant that is," Sikozu said. "She's still not necessary for me to discuss programming with Pilot."

"Where's D'Argo?" Stark asked.

Oh, frell. She'd almost forgotten there was *another* Crichton in the game. "I don't know. Why don't *you* find out, and tell me?"

"You could also ask Pilot. Or Pax." Stark moved to the window and looked out across the urban center. (As much as could be seen from the fifth floor, anyway; there was a limit to how many stairs Sikozu was willing to climb, and even with their generators brought in the lift *still* wasn't working properly.) "Such destruction," he murmured.

Sikozu followed his gaze with a jaundiced eye. "Actually it's not nearly as bad here," she said. "The flood not only put out some of the fires before they could get serious, it also killed many of the -- most severely affected, before they did the damage they did in some other places." Dren, she'd almost said 'zombies'. Damned Crichtons. "There are some groups of the intermediate class, the animal-like ones, but they usually hide rather than rampage. Also, New Eblekk hasn't had any problems to speak of with Nebari attacks." Probably because the Eleemosynaries were seen as helpful, the Hynerians continued to be strangely overlooked, and everyone thought she was too ineffectual to be a threat.

Stark nodded. "There are none of the... most severely affected... here?"

"There aren't many anywhere," she replied crisply. "I would not be surprised to find there aren't any. For once, a mob of stupid, violent creatures wiped itself out as fast as it deserved to." She hadn't meant to share that last part. Maybe Colosa was right and she should take some more time off to sleep.

The Banik only shook his head. "I need to get to the Eleemosynary encampment," he said. "I wanted to check in first, to see if there have been any developments. There haven't been?"

"Apart from Crichton and Sun taking off on what will no doubt be a rampage of chaos and destruction across the planet, no."

Stark opened his mouth to reply but, *frell*, Colosa was sticking her head in again. "Sikozu? I'm sorry to interrupt, but Evek Egenek is here and he says it's--"

"Shanu," Evek said, shouldering past Colosa. He ignored Stark. "My people have reported some -- *interesting* rumors circulating among the Eleemosynaries."

//Frell, frell, frell.// At least she had a good excuse to stall. "Egenek, this is the Stykera Stark, who you may recall is associated with the Eleemosynaries. Stark, this is Evek Eshtan Erranet Ekru Egenek. He's overseeing the Kalish presence on Nebari Prime."

Evek blinked, obviously not expecting an *important* Banik, although given that about the only Baniks on Nebari Prime were Eleemosynaries she wasn't sure what he *had* been expecting. "Stykera. Shanu, let's make this quick. The rumor is that John Crichton is on the planet. True? What is he doing here?"

"Crichton and Aeryn are my friends," Stark said smoothly. "They're searching for the abducted Eleemosynaries."

//We'll see how long *that* deception shroud holds up,// she thought grimly. She didn't need anyone else getting any *ideas*. And--

"Sikozu? Uh, I'm sorry -- again -- but there's a very strange man on the comm who says he wants to talk to you immediately." Colosa looked unsettled. "He kind of growled at me when I said you were busy--"

#####

They circled one more time before setting the pod down a safe distance away from the utter chaos of the cluster of farm buildings. There were still a few mutant-cows-on-steroids running around, but most had stampeded off into the distance.

Finding Chiana still seemed just a little too good to be true, but John was inclined to take the stampede as evidence that they really had seen her. //If you want to find one of our shipmates, just look for the mess.// No wonder they had Sikozu so on-edge.

It looked like there was still a lot of shouting and waving of arms going on in the building cluster. Still, it wasn't long before a few Nebari emerged from the crowd and trudged over to the transport pod. One of them had a terribly familiar tilt of the head, and the face--

"And there she is," Aeryn said. "Frell me dead. You go on out, I'll hang back -- just in case."

John emerged from the transport pod slowly. He didn't want to be thinking 'just in case' -- this was *Chiana* -- but with one thing and another...

"I don't believe it. It *is* you!" She frowned. "You look kind of..."

"Youthified?" John suggested. Chiana looked a little older, or possibly just tired. Of course, the weird baggy top she was wearing made her look a bit different, too. "New treatment. Worked pretty well, I think."

"It certainly did." Her faint smile spread into a grin, and he half expected her to leap into a hug, but she only reached out the clasp his hand. "It's great to see you! But what are you *doing* here? How the frell did you find me?"

"Completely by accident," John admitted. "Saw that ship take off and, uh, land, and came to see what was going on. Our one piece of good luck for the cycle, I guess." Last year it had been tripping over an experienced, non-evil Leviathan medic just when Moya was feeling a little under the weather. The year before, he'd happened to be watching a live transmission of Scorpius making a speech when Scorpius had fallen into a rather muddy sinkhole. But he didn't think they'd been this lucky since Stark had been leading his people to the Promised Land. //So to speak.// "As for what we're doing here... that's a longer story. With more bad luck."

"Don't tell me the Establishment's let loose the Contagion *now*," she groaned.

"No," John said quickly. "No, the Establishment is just as collapsed as it looks from here." He glanced at what was left of several trucks of soldiers. "More so. The Eleemosynaries sent some people in. Zhaan was with them. She's been kidnapped."

Chiana stared at him. "Little Zee?"

"Yeah."

"*Here*?"

"Yeah."

"*Frell*."

"Pretty much." He felt sick all over again, just thinking of it. //Nineteen, she's nineteen...//

"How long ago? Where? By who?" Chiana waved back one of her companions who'd started forward when she swore. "It's fine, Palma. Well, no it's not, but the problem's not here."

"Five days," John said bleakly. "We only got here a little over a day ago, we were on Arnessk. They were taken at the... uh, the hadesopter storage and maintenance facility, back... that way." Actually he'd lost track of cardinal directions a while back. That was what came of relying on sensors, he supposed. Wait-- "No, that way. Under a hundred metras that way. By who..." He looked at Chiana's friends. "We don't know. There are theories. And they left demands. Which have been mostly ignored." Except by Jothee, Rygel's local commander, and -- to be fair -- Sikozu. //And none of them would be doing it if Zee weren't involved. Not that the Hynerians got any demands to ignore.//

"Dren, Crichton, I'm sorry. We haven't seen a thing, here, but... we wouldn't. We barely have a working radio." Chiana nodded to the pod. "Aeryn there?"

"Yeah. Stark should be getting here -- Nebari Prime -- soon, if he hasn't already. Jothee's here with the Luxan forces." And they really needed to let everyone know Chiana wasn't dead.

"So maybe it *was* a Luxan ship," Chiana muttered. "Never mind. I'll do everything I can to help look and get her back -- but first I need to get at least the noncombatants here somewhere safe. My people might be able to help. If--"

"Hang on," John said reluctantly. "Can I talk to you alone for a microt, Pip? Maybe in the pod?"

"Uh, sure."

It took a bit for her to persuade her friends that it was perfectly safe for her to go in the 'alien pod', but finally she waved off the last of them with a scowl and took the steps up into the pod two at a time. John followed more sedately.

"--good to see you're alive," Aeryn was saying as he arrived. "Were you coordinating the defense?"

Chiana snorted. "Yeah, suddenly they forgot they think I'm young and inexperienced and expected me to figure out everything."

"It seemed to work pretty well. Good use of available resources."

"Thanks." Chiana smiled. "I guess you'd know. Now -- what is this about little Zee that you can't tell me outside?"

John felt his expression go grim. "Thing is, Pip -- we aren't *sure* who took them -- but all the information we have points to a Resistance cell."

"What?" Chiana said. "No! No, they wouldn't! None of us would -- not kidnapping -- well, not *Eleemosynaries*--" She broke off in distress. Neither John nor Aeryn interrupted. "There are some people who are a little, a little, *zealous*, and there have been arguments about -- collateral damage, and appropriate targets -- I still think that training facility was a mistake -- but they wouldn't -- wouldn't-- They would, wouldn't they. They would. *Dren*!" She dropped into the nearest seat. "Dren. *Dren*. I'm so sorry."

"Not your fault, Chiana."

"I'm sorry all the same. I'm not sure -- we haven't been in contact with *anyone*. We lost our Resistance comm en route, and Rossi -- my tech wonder boy -- thinks he might be able to adapt a different comm, but he hasn't had any luck with the Zenetan pile of dren so far."

John nodded. "Yeah, uh -- how *did* you get a Zenetan ship, anyway?"

"Attacked by Zenetans. They were expecting helpless refugees. We, ah, surprised them. And they were idiots." She smirked briefly. "Are there a lot of Zenetans around?"

"Uh... You know, I'm not sure. Possibly. Ummm..." There'd been a map in the Eleemosynary building, he remembered, but he hadn't taken the time to work out what it said -- translator microbes could be dodgy with text.

"The Eleemosynaries had a map of who's holding what territory," Aeryn said. "It looked like they believe there are a lot of Zenetans around somewhere, but aren't sure as to the precise location."

"Probably all flying around in their pile-of-dren ships instead of holding still." Chiana paused. "Wait -- *who's* holding territory?"

Oh, boy. "This may take a while..."

#####

Between oxygen deprivation and head injuries, Zhaan was more than slightly dazed when they threw her back into the silo. They used the upper access, too, despite the lower one being exposed -- grain or no grain, if she hadn't been limp she could have been hurt. Everyone fussed, and she knew more or less ignoring them wasn't making them any less worried, but frell it, she was cold and hungry and half-drowned and hurting and suffering from *two* head injuries and locked in a silo and still cuffed. She had the right to a little self-pity.

"What did they do to her? She's all wet!" Renyr hissed.

"Half wet," Nach corrected. "Dunking? Zhaan? Can you breathe all right?"

"Dunking?" That was Agnola.

"She means partial drowning, used as torture," Tacer supplied. "Her breathing sounds all right to me, what about her head?"

"I'm not very happy about that, either. Does anyone have some easily-torn clothing? Thanks, Fedele -- Renyr, rinse that out for me--"

She tried and failed to bat Nach's hands away from the fresh wound. Right. Something she should tell them. "Wanted to know what was going on. Told them local Royal Sebacean was conspiring with Peacekeepers. To take over." Who cared what Tacer thought, her chest hurt. "Told them Commandant Darth Vader was in charge. Said I'd just overheard, and none of you knew, but... I don't know."

"The Peacekeepers are trying to take over?" Agnola asked.

Zhaan wanted to laugh, but she was afraid it would come out a sob. "Dunno. I just wanted them to stop." Frell, she was weak. "Is no Commandant Vader. Or I really doubt it. S'a story. 'Luke, I am your father.' I just wanted them to stop..." And then she *was* crying, jagged, helpless sobs that made her feel about five. //I want to go home. I want my *mom*...//

She refused to answer Nach's questions, just shook her head. She didn't protest, or help with, bandaging her wound. She tuned out Orek trying to explain to Agnola how it wasn't only guilty people who confessed, sometimes innocent people said things that weren't true under interrogation. She didn't try to count how many profanities Tacer went without a repeat. And when the lower door opened again -- no grainslide, this time -- she buried her face in her arms and refused to look up. They could just carry her. She wasn't moving. Or listening.

She only raised her head after the door clanged shut and no one had approached her. "What'd they want?" she asked dully.

Nach's lips were white. "They took Agnola."

"Oh." Zhaan processed for a microt. This could be very bad. "Fr -- dren."

"Yeah."

Hopefully Orek wouldn't have to explain *that*.

//I hate them. I hate them. I hate them.//

She hoped they did go after the Luxan forces. She knew what sort of damage heavily armed Luxan warriors could do. Tygo and company deserved it.

No he didn't. He deserved worse.

//I hate them.//

There'd been an aid mission, once, to a small moon installation which had been attacked by Sheyang. Lots of burns to treat. Lots of burned bodies to -- well, burn, since the locals didn't really have the space for burial. There'd been one man who'd been hit with a flame belch point-blank, in the head and torso. She'd managed to vomit in a corner, rather than on anybody or any bodies.

That might be good enough for Tygo. She could hope. There were Sheyang on planet, and if he met them he was bound to make them angry.

//I hate them.//

Or there was always the sort of carnage Charrids left behind.

//I hate them.//

Or Kalish were smart, they could have picked something up from the Scarrans.

//I hate them.//

She'd never really wanted anybody dead before. But she'd think about that later. If she had time.

//I hate them. I hate them. I hate them...//

#####

Not all Sykarans wore loose, ugly red clothing, but given D'Argo's too-dark hair and too-pale skin, he needed an outfit that *shouted* "Sykaran". Pax had started laughing maniacally when he walked in the center chamber wearing it. (She'd stopped abruptly when he'd told her they were leaving her with Ry, which had been satisfying.) At least it was baggy enough that he could hide he was carrying a Peacekeeper-standard pulse pistol, rather than a scavenged Nebari weapon or one of the Sykaran's home-manufactured... things. (Not that anyone with any sense at all would carry one of those strapped to their body, anyway.) Anyway, he looked Sykaran enough that non-Sykarans probably wouldn't be able to tell the difference.

Now, if only he knew what they were going to do when they actually met the Resistance. 'Hi. I think some friends of yours kidnapped my sister. Could you give her back? What? No, I'm not Sykaran -- actually my parents are really famous, but I'm not going to tell you who they are. But if I did, you'd definitely give my sister back right away.' Or maybe, 'Hi. My godmother's in the Resistance. Oh, you're in a different cell, don't know her at all? That's too bad.'

Dee thumped his head back against the wall of the Sykaran ship. Something rattled. //Possibly we should have thought this over in more detail.//

He hadn't been stupid enough to try to convince Ksenia to stay behind. She only would have pointed out that it made more sense for *him* to stay behind, being as she was the *actual* Sykaran.

Speaking of, Ksenia was coming back from talking to her brother. "So we're meeting with someone fairly high-up, which I guess is probably a good thing. Are we just starting with 'abducted Eleemosynaries' and working around to Zhaan?"

//Another good reason she's not staying behind -- she's apparently the one with all the sense.// "Sounds like a plan," he said. "Oh, uh -- it's possible we'll want to play Guess-Who-My-Parents-Are. Do you want to talk to Rishor about it first?"

Ksenia -- well, didn't pale, but probably would have with a different complexion. "Um. How possible?"

"Um -- it depends?"

She grimaced. "Well, I guess he has to find out about it eventually. ...Probably does, anyway. I should tell him something. I'll be back before we land."

Dee watched her thread her way across the cargo bay of the crappy Sykaran hauler back to Rishor, who looked a little surprised. She said something brief which left him looking confused rather than shocked, and came back looking satisfied. "Kess?"

"I told him you had some connections that might be surprising, and then got you and Zhaan and Ry -- by full name -- into a single sentence. He should be able to figure it out, or close enough."

"At least after being told there's something to look for." It really was such a lame cover. "How do you think he'll re--"

"Landing!" the pilot bellowed from the control compartment in lieu of a functioning comm system. "Everyone hang onto something!"

Dee had been through liftoff already; he took the warning seriously. At least all the cargo -- at least half munitions -- was secured well enough to stay in place. (Sykarans were careful around their highly unstable tannot root products, to be sure, but they were so used to it they could sometimes come off as a little... cavalier.) Overall landing was no worse than takeoff. Unfortunately next they had to wait a while, until unloading was in progress and they wouldn't be too conspicuous.

"Frelling wait's just giving me time to get butterflies in my stomach," he muttered, then added, "It's something my dad says."

"Huh," Ksenia said. "Are they some sort of gastrointestinal parasite?"

"Uhh... I'm pretty sure it's not supposed to be literal, but I forget what butterflies actually are. Something insectoid, I'm pretty sure." Zhaan would probably know for certain. //Dammit, Zee. This *has* to work.//

Outside the ship, most of the Nebari were loading the freight onto ground vehicles. He could have guessed they were Resistance by their appearance-- //No, wait, everyone probably looks like that now.// Okay, he could've guessed because they were armed, and not creepy enough to fit his idea of Establishment.

Rishor was talking to a man who seemed to be in some position of authority, and he finally waved them over; they got into hearing range in time for Dee to catch "...I appreciate this, Nerri. It's important to her."

//*What?!*// No. No way.

Couldn't-possibly-be-*that*-Nerri smiled faintly. "She's your little sister. Hard to say no to."

Way?

"This is Nerri," Rishor said, turning to them. "He's actually been outside Nebari space, which is more unusual than you'd think in the Resistance, so he's doing a lot of the liaising. Nerri, this is my sister Ksenia, and her mate--"

"D'Argo Sun Crichton," Dee broke in, enunciating a lot more than usual. Maybe-*that*-Nerri's eyes widened, so he'd probably caught the name at least. "My sister, Zhaan Sun Crichton, is one of the kidnapped Eleemosynaries."

Nebari *paled* with shock even less than Sykarans did, but the resulting *completely* untranslated string of words conveyed shock just as well.

Probably-*that*-Nerri bit off a last curse. "My sister," he said.

"Is my godmother."

"And your sister--"

"Is one of the kidnapped Eleemosynaries."

Nerri went off into Nebari profanity again. Meanwhile, Rishor's eyes widened and his jaw dropped.

"Sun. Crichton."

Ksenia winced. "I was hoping it'd take a *little* longer," she muttered.

"Sun. *Crichton*."

"Uh." Dee hoped Nerri returned to the conversation before they had to explain that it was in fact *that* Sun Crichton... but it wasn't looking good.

#####

It was arns before they threw Agnola back, through the lower door. She didn't seem any more injured, physically, but she wasn't talking either. Zhaan would have nudged Nach towards her if the Banik hadn't already been moving. They'd seen this, too.

Zhaan also tried to stop wallowing in self-pity and do something else useful, only to find she couldn't think of anything to do. Nach and Gervis were with Agnola, and she was just so... drained. Only drained meant water going out, not pushing in up her nose and stinging her eyes and choking her-- She could feel the hysteria rising again, and bit her cheek to keep from laughing or crying.

No one else seemed to know what to do with themselves, either. Fedele was staring blankly at the lower door, Tacer was prodding his chest wound -- someone really ought to tell him to stop -- and Renyr was apparently quietly panicking at Orek. Orek was trying to be patient, but he was tired, too.

So tired. Maybe she could try to sleep.

She did sleep, eventually, for a few arns, until they came for her again.


	11. The Unforgiving Minute

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 10: The Unforgiving Minute, in which Zhaan is nothing if not a product of her upbringing. (Also, something blows up. If you've been following carefully you can probably guess what.)

Zhaan expected them to take her back to the trough. Worked last time, hadn't it? Instead, Thug and Other Thug shoved (and occasionally dragged) her down a long corridor which seemed to run the length of the building. They passed through an open space -- probably a garage -- where the kidnappers seemed to have set up camp. //Wonder what's wrong with the glebe dorms?// she thought inanely. //Maybe someone watched the Transmission in there? What time of day was it here?// And there she went again, thinking of anything but what was happening.

The room they finally threw her into looked like storage for mechanical maintenance equipment and spare parts. Zhaan stumbled across the room, catching herself on a large box which rattled, but didn't move.

Tygo was already there, face fixed in his customary sneer. He was holding her pulse pistol for some reason -- she thought it was hers, at least -- and a welder.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ _  
She reaches in front of the DRD at exactly the wrong moment, and the little arc of light hits her arm instead of the exposed wiring. It hurts worse than when she fell off a box in the maintenance bay and banged her knee *bad*. She shrieks, and the DRD shoots backwards, and then Daddy is there, scooping her up in a hug. "Aw, frell, Zee, are you all right? Frell, I should've-- Are you-- Let me see, Zee, aw, princess, I'm so sorry, we'll get you all patched up and make it stop hurting, okay?"  
_ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

//Nonono*frell*no, this isn't happening.// What was wrong with the frelling *trough*?

"Leave her here," Tygo ordered the thugs. "And I don't want any interruptions. Everyone is to remain in the garage until I return with new information."

Come to think of it there had been a lot of Nebari in the garage, some of them not doing much. //He's sent his... troops, for lack of a better word... for, what, a time-out? Is he suddenly having control issues? And 'new information'? Oh, *frell*--//

The door slammed behind the thugs, and Tygo used what looked like a small master-key to lock the door (why?) before turning the sneer fully on her. "Royal scum."

"I'm not from the--"

He hit her with her own gun. "Peacekeeper, then? I know this is one of their weapons." She tasted blood. He'd split her lip. Whatever Orek thought of it, Tygo had a pretty good arm. Tygo tossed the gun aside and loomed even closer. "But that doesn't matter. What else? What else are they planning? What are they targeting next?"

//Why would I know that? Even if he was right, *why* would I know that?// "I don't *know*!" she shouted, flinching back as he flipped the welder on and off, terribly near her face. //Does he think I have some kind of comm in my boot? Do I *look* like some kind of -- of spy?//

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ _  
"Good news is it's not as serious as it could be." Aunt Chiana crouches next to Uncle Rygel's chair. (Not only is everything really nice in Uncle Rygel's palace, most of the furniture is just the right size for *kids*. And Hynerians.) "First of all, the Peacekeeper consul's attache knows more about your palace politics than you probably want him to. And is a lot chattier with random inferior-species females than I think his superiors would like."_

_Rygel looks pleased. "Blackmail for inside information."_

_"I thought you might like that. Okay, so the main issue is Wife Number Three and Wife Number Four *really* don't like each other, which by the way you should not need me to tell you--"  
_ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

//Frell, if I *were* any kind of operative, they'd have written me off as compromised and *changed* everything by now!// Surely he had to understand that? "I told you everything I--"

Tygo seized the front of her shirt and shook her. "You're going to take children to sell as slaves, aren't you? Admit it!"

"I-- What? No! Where did you even--"

"*Admit it!*"

Zhaan got it. His troops *were* in a time-out, probably because some of them were a little unhappy, probably because of Agnola. Which meant he *had* to get some sort of 'proof' the Eleemosynaries were the enemy, which meant he wasn't going to stop until she gave him what he wanted.

"We're medics," she said hopelessly. "We're just *medics*--"

//But you're not just a medic, Zhaan. You *were* armed, and not as a fashion accessory. You're Zhaan *Sun* *Crichton*. You're your parents' daughter, and they didn't raise a helpless victim.//

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ _  
Dee says not to ask questions about some parts of their parents' stories, to ask Stark or Rygel or Chiana if she *has* to know. But Zhaan is (almost) fifteen, and doesn't like getting ordered around by adults, never mind her bossy brother._

 _Dad sighs. "I can't really say *how*, Zee. Especially not how everything. I guess if I had to connect things somehow... Sometimes the game's rigged against you. So, you don't play by their rules."  
_ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

//And he's shut himself in with a prisoner, alone.//

Before she could talk herself out of it, she kicked. The angle wasn't that great, but her boot connected neatly with his crotch.

Right. Nebari didn't turn red, but given sufficient motivation they did get kind of purple. He doubled over and dropped the welder (fortunately off again). Before he could un-crumple himself, she surged off the crate, but the cuffs threw her off and her elbow hit the side of his neck instead of right on the trachea. He looked like it hurt, but-- //Nebari throats are almost as bad -- uh, good -- as their abdomens. Gonna take more than that. Uh, nothing special about Nebari knees--// She landed a good solid kick and -- //thank you Goddess!// -- Tygo was on the floor.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ _  
"Many of the enemies you face will have an advantage in height, or weight, or training, or experience," Mom says. "Until you're older, almost all of them will. This means that you don't fight 'fair', and if you get the advantage, don't lose it. Do what you have to to ensure that they stay down."_

_Dee groans from across the workout mat. *He's* definitely staying down. "Mom, *please* don't let her kick me in the mivonks again!"_

_"You need to learn to defend against that, D'Argo -- but no, not today. John, can you come work with Zhaan for a while?"  
_ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Before he could start to get up -- //kinda slow, must have banged his head// -- Zhaan planted a boot at the base of his neck, and leaned. She was half-surprised it worked; she felt weirdly weightless, floating, like someone had turned the gravity off. "I'm not *from* the Royal Planet," she spat at the back of Tygo's head. "I've never *been* to the Royal Planet. I'm also not a Peacekeeper. I have a Peacekeeper pulse pistol because they're *all over* the gray market, and my mother's an *ex*-Peacekeeper. My *father* isn't even Sebacean -- his name's John Crichton. You might've heard of him."

She paused. He didn't react. Was he unconscious? Frell. //No, you want him unconscious.// Escape was a higher priority than gloating, right. She couldn't let him follow her. And she still needed to get out of the cuffs. She could put the cuffs on him? No, couldn't let him sound the alarm, either. There'd been that livestock trough -- //that *frelling* trough// -- there might be some veterinary tranquilizer around somewhere--

//Or you could put the rest of your weight on his neck. Stomp on it. Nebari throats aren't *that* good, and their spines are nothing special. He wouldn't be sounding any alarms *then*.//

But-- //You're a *doctor*, Zhaan. You're supposed to *preserve* life. And he's down. You'd be killing him in cold blood.//

But-- //I dunno, the blood coming out of that cut on your face feels plenty warm to me.//

"*Shut up*!" she hissed. //Oh, frell, I'm talking to voices in my head.// "Okay. Compromise." She took her foot off his neck, and kicked him in the head. Hard. At the temporal fenestra. That was survivable. Theoretically. "Happy now?"

Cuffs. Had to get rid of the cuffs. He'd put that possibly-a-master-key back in his pocket. She dropped to one knee and fumbled for it. Frelling tiny keys. Frelling cuffs with inaccessible locks. They'd talked about them. No one else here to get them off. But--

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ _  
Giggle. Giggle. *Giggle* giggle._

_"And then Dad gave Mom the key and-- *What*, Pax?" Dee says, exasperated._

_"You know what I'd do, if I had cuffs like that?" the six-cycle-old asks, then giggles again. "I'd hold the key with my toes!" She collapses in giggles, flopping over on the bed and waving her bare feet at them._

_Dee looks over at Zhaan and rolls his eyes. "Well, it'd probably work better than when she tried to hold her *fork* with her toes..."  
_ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Zhaan sat down the rest of the way and started to work her boot off. //Good thing Pax isn't here. She'd have exploded and *not shut up*, and probably gotten shot the first day. She'd probably-- Oh, *goddess*, that's foul.// Possibly she should have taken her boots off at some point and let her socks dry out. But the smell didn't seem to be bringing Tygo around, so whatever.

Sock off as well -- she almost thought it would try to crawl away -- she held the key between her big toe and the next one, and twisted around to fit it in the lock. That was the easy part. //Didn't think about *manipulating* the key once it's in there.) Her big toe was too big. It was a little hard to control the smaller toes, but they fit the key well enough to manipulate it. The cuffs came off.

For a microt she could only stare at her bruised, abraded wrists. //No time, no time.// She made quick work of putting her sock and boot back on (ew), and staggered over to the shelf where Tygo had left her pulse pistol. It was... //Frell.// Almost out of chakan oil. //What were they doing, target practice?// There was enough for... dren, she didn't know, but not very many shots. Or a small explosion. //Too small.// She'd rather burn the whole complex down. The others would be fine, they were sitting in soggy grain--

Of course, it also mattered *where* you set off your small explosion...

She stuffed the pulse pistol into her empty holster, grabbed Tygo's gun and knife and the key, and made for the ventilation duct.

Just as she was climbing in, she stopped, then went back for the welder. She'd seen the "No open flames" symbols of half a dozen species at *least*. They all tended to be pretty similar, and she was pretty sure she'd spotted one on the door at the end of the hall. If she could get there through the ducts, and if it was what she was hoping for...

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ _  
"But Uncle Stark, if the bad people are in *agriculture*, why are the Baniks getting hurt in *explosions*?"_

 _Stark smiles sadly. "The kinds of agriculturalists who use slaves also use any number of chemicals, Little Zhaan. They are not meant to explode, but when proper precautions are not taken... Even something meant to help plants grow can be terribly destructive."  
_ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

She could, and it was. There were some quite large containers, but they were mostly empty, so it wouldn't take out everything in a twelve-metra radius. //Hopefully.//

The welder heated up fast, which was... probably good, overall. It did make positioning it harder. It had to be balanced *exactly right* -- Zhaan needed it to fall off the tool-rack when shaken, but not until then -- and she wasn't sure she could touch it after it was in place (especially with intermittent trembling), so she had to *get* it in place powered up. It felt like it took arns, but she was pretty sure it hadn't. She was very very careful not to bump anything on her way out.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ _  
"I never said pulse muskets didn't *work*," Ksenia says, waving a finger at Pax -- mostly Zhaan is watching Dee watch Ksenia, but she's still following the conversation. "I just said shaking them can make them blow your hands off, and there's always that slight chance it will fire out the wrong end and you'll shoot yourself in the face."_

_Pax looks unconvinced. "That sounds a lot like not working to me."_

_"Obviously I don't want to use them either, but if you're *careful*--"  
_ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It was a long crawl back through the ducts to the silo end of the building. Sometimes she could even hear the Nebari -- the *kidnappers* -- moving around, below her. At least she knew no one had sounded the alarm. //Yet.// And she had to be quiet. It was easier without the welder, but she'd picked up a pry-bar, and it was dusty enough that she had to fight not to cough, which was promising for her Plan but still a problem. It just took *one* kidnapper paying enough attention... The ducts weren't exactly an advantageous position.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ _  
Zee isn't sure who's hanging on tighter, her or Pax. //It's just so I can keep her from crying.// Pax is only four, and Moya's been *boarded* and they had to go to the bolthole and now Dee's heard a noise and gone to investigate--_

_She presses her face into Pax's messy hair. "Twinkle, twinkle, little star," she sings, as quietly as she can. "How I wonder what you are. Up above the world so high, like a diamond in the sky..."_

_Pax sniffles into her neck, and not far away at all, Zee hears a pulse blast.  
_ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

And then she'd come to the end of the building and the sealed-off silo, and it was showtime. //Showtime and the point of no return.// She actually would have preferred somewhere nearer the middle of the building, but she could only crawl so fast, and from here on out, she was going be on a timetable.

//One-mippipippi-nineteen, one-mippipippi-twenty, one-mippippi-twenty-one--//

Zhaan went to the upper access (//twenty-four//) to get into the prison-silo, guessing it would be farther away from most of the Nebari, which was worth (//twenty-five//) the additional climbing in the ducts.

Sure enough (//twenty-six//), there was only one guard, which wasn't as good as none, but she (huh) was dividing her attention between the stairs going *down* and the silo hatch, not the corridor. //One-mippi-*perfect*-twenty-seven...// Zhaan really didn't have the time (//twenty-eight//) for subtlety, so she fired Tygo's stun gun and hoped (//twenty-nine//) she could aim the thing adequately and that it wasn't too loud. //Or that they're too slow, hah. Dren. Mippipippi-thirty?// There wasn't much of a lock on the hatch, and she might have been able to break it, but with the master-key she didn't need to. It was the work of a microt to open it.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ _  
Miko shakes his head, leaning on the only clean spot on the corridor wall. "I'm beginning to think Tash is some kind of secret genius lock-breaking expert."_

_"No, my aunt told me about this. A *ridiculous* number of locks in Nebari territory can be opened with a single override key. They're -- they were -- just that sure no one was going to try anything, they just needed people not to open stuff by accident. Tash must have gotten one somewhere. Goddess knows most of the people who had them don't need them anymore." Zhaan cranes her neck. "There, it's open. Uh... you remember what the symbol for analgesic is?"_

_"Maybe, but I'll ask Renyr."_

_"I'm not sure Renyr actually knows. Should've drawn it on something."  
_ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

She leaned in to make sure they'd noticed. "Heads up!" She threw down the guard's weapons. After a microt of deliberation -- //I never saw her, and it's a woman, so she probably didn't assault Agnola// -- she pushed the guard in too, then jumped down, pulling the hatch closed behind her as much as she could.

//Much more graceful landing without cuffs.// And she'd lost count. Good thing it didn't much matter.

Tacer was already attempting to use strips of his smock to tie the guard's hands. "You got one? Great. Dibs on the other gun."

"Zhaan?" Nach hissed. "Are you all right? Did you get loose? Stupid question -- you look like dren--"

"I did get loose," Zhaan said. Her face felt like it was smiling. A lot. "Also, I hope you meant it when you said the silo was reinforced, Agnola, because--"

**BOOM**

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ _  
\--the Charrid ship comes apart, catching fire as it hits Nron's atmosphere--  
_ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The noise was deafening. One side of the silo buckled in, but only a few motras. The shock sent grain and prisoners sliding around. The unfastened hatch above blew wide open, and they even got a few bits of debris.

"--all that loose dust in the halls is about to explode," Zhaan finished. "And--"

*BOOM*

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ _  
\--the recording has no audio, which somehow makes the crumbling of the planet into the black hole even more horrifying, and she understands now why her father hates this part of the museum--  
_ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"--that'll be fertilizer storage. Exploding." It wasn't as nearby, but still pretty impressive. //If I do say so myself.// "If this doesn't distract them--"

"It is," Tacer said, head cocked. "Lots of shouting, and screaming, and I smell smoke--"

*Boom*

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ _  
\--the hostelry windows shatter inwards--  
_ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"--and another explosion. Yeah. Well, I didn't exactly *smell* the explosion, but you know what I mean."

"There must have been an isolated pocket of dust," Agnola said faintly. "And the fire spread... I think maybe I don't hate dust explosions any more."

Orek was eying the upper hatch warily. "I guess if our silo hasn't blown up yet it probably won't, but--"

"If there's no one right outside the lower access, we should go," Nach said, after a concerned glance at Zhaan. "Get out of here. Steal a ground vehicle if we can."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ _  
"All-out security systems can be a real problem, which is why you should always do your research before trying to steal a Luxan ship. Navigational locks can be tricky, too. But if all it needs is authentication for startup..." Aunt Chiana grins over her shoulder at Dee and Zee as the tri-wheel hums into life under her hands. "Easier than fixing a DRD._

_Dee looks at the opened panel, then climbs onto the tri-wheel's primary seat and grips the hand-controls. "Can I drive it? I think I see how. How fast does it go?"_

_"Hang on, if it's not an emergency you want more than *thinking* you know how--"_

_Zhaan, however, has seen her father come out of the merchantry and towards them, Pax in tow, and she may only be ten but she's plenty old enough to know this is a good time to pretend to be fascinated by the sunset.  
_ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Tacer picked up the guard's gun and picked his way across the grain to the hatch, where he actually pressed his ear against the wall. "Thing's definitely reinforced, think I was hearing more from the one that's open... I'm pretty sure it's clear." Without waiting for further instructions, he kicked the hatch open.

The corridor outside reeked of ash and acrid chemical smoke, and part of the ceiling had caved in. The stairs going up had crashed in to tangle, inconveniently, with the stairs going down. The grain that had spilled out earlier seemed to mostly still be there. //That's odd, I thought it exploded. I guess they have been saying *dust* explosion...// Some of the larger grain deposits were on fire, though. Other than a leg sticking out from under the collapsed ceiling, an indistinct shape in the stair-wreckage, and the unconscious guard in the silo, there was no sign of any kidnappers.

Nach was shepherding everyone out of the silo. Orek was helping Tacer try to work out of the stairs were safe and passable, and by the way if there was a body in there. Zhaan felt weightless again. Still. Whatever. She dodged Nach's outstretched hand and went to stare down the ruins of the corridor, gun at the ready. //Almost there. Almost there.//

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ _  
"And if you get away from them, you run. You run and don't look back."  
_ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


	12. Short-Term Goals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Eleven: Short-Term Goals, in which the Sun-Crichton family makes some progress.

*boom*

"Did you hear that?"

"Yeah -- did you *feel* that?"

"Yes I did." Aeryn's experience with planetside explosions was limited compared to shipboard incidents, but she knew one when she felt one. "I don't think there are any urban centers near enough for that to have been the Royal Sebaceans taking out another one--"

"The Royal Sebaceans did *what*?" Chiana broke in.

They'd spent the last several arns standing in the shadow of the transport pod, out of hearing but in sight of Chiana's people, telling her what they knew about what had been happening -- how Nebari space had gone silent, everyone and their ally investigating, Sikozu, the first refugee ship, what they'd heard about the Collapse -- and what they'd learned from the Resistance courier. That had set off a round of cursing, but it seemed that Chiana had already been considering the theory; she was angry and horrified and disappointed, but not incredulous or shocked. The stories took longer than they might have because people kept coming to Chiana with questions and reports. One of hers had been killed outright, three more shot, one caught up in the livestock stampede, and four noncombatants on the Zenetan ship hadn't been strapped in and had injuries from being thrown around. There were no Establishment survivors by the time Chiana asked if there were any she could question. Judging from the slightly embarrassed look on the face of the man who told her, there had been some survivors at some point. Whoever they had flying the Zenetan ship wanted to know if she should move it so they could get at the Establishment troops they'd landed on -- Chiana had nixed that until the noncombatants were off, wisely. She was doing a good job.

But with all the interruptions, they'd only got as far as everyone setting up camp on Nebari Prime, not how things were breaking down again. Further.

"Destroyed an urban center in retaliation for one of their guys getting assassinated," John said. "I, uh, don't know what number it was -- hello."

Out across the fields, there was a column of smoke billowing up into the sky.

"We followed the tracks into this general area," John said slowly. "You don't think..."

Aeryn had been thinking along similar lines. "*Someone's* there. We should check."

"Not by yourselves you're not," Chiana said quickly. "I'll get, uh, Palma--"

Backup would be nice, but-- "I'm not certain that's a good idea, Chiana," Aeryn said reluctantly. "Under the circumstances."

Chiana snarled under her breath. "All right, maybe not charging off at someone else, but if you need to come back here, you do it even if they're chasing you. My people will *not* have any problems defending medics, even alien medics, and everyone's already on their best behavior in front of the civilians."

"We will," Aeryn said. "You might want to get some distance from the pod, we'll be going up fast."

Only when they were high enough to clear the buildings did John smack his forehead. "Dammit, we should have given her a comm." He sighed. "We'll come back. I'm going to update Pilot--"

John was brief -- they were following a new lead on Zhaan, no concrete news yet, but they had found someone else they were hoping to find and she was all right, just without comms at the moment. Pilot acknowledged the good news and wished them luck, but--

"It appears that young Ry has a tooth coming in. He is quite distressed."

Yes, that was definitely a screaming child in the background. "There are still some old -- no, D'Argo and Ksenia have teething rings, I'm sure--"

"D'Argo and Ksenia are on an errand. Pax is attempting to locate the teething equipment now."

"What do you mean, *errand*--" John started, but they were coming up on the source of the smoke. "Frell, Pilot, I have to go. I'll call when we know what's going on--"

#####

"It is a Resistance cell," Nerri said wearily, leading them through the Nebari vehicles. "The idea was retaliation against the Royal Sebaceans, but they just went after the first Sebacean lookalike they found."

"Namely my sister."

Nerri shrugged. "Not necessarily. A lot of Nebari from the Homeworld have trouble telling *Baniks* from Sebaceans at a distance. They could easily have gone after Sykarans, which would have been messy, but for some reason they went after the medics."

"Classy."

"You have to understand, especially how things are now, I have very little control over the individual cells," Nerri said. "If Tygo had told me about his little hostage-taking plan, I would have advised him not to, but he didn't. By the time he checked in, he had prisoners and was making demands, and the most I could do was tell him to hang on to them, because they might be useful later. He wasn't going to just release them at that point, and I couldn't honestly advise it anyway. It would have made the Resistance look pretty stupid. I was surprised when he actually got a little of what he was demanding..." Nerri trailed off, eying Dee's flat expression. "Probably from people who knew just who he'd captured?"

"I expect so."

Ksenia wondered if she should try to get Dee to look less disapproving; revolutions were messy, and Nerri was probably doing the best he could. Then again, to her knowledge the Sykarans had managed never to abduct any Eleemosynaries.

Nerri stopped by what seemed to be a mobile command center, judging by what looked like a large communications console occupying about half the passenger space. "Chira, I need to contact Tygo's group."

The Nebari woman twisted to look at him. "They just contacted us, I was about to send someone for you. Their prisoners got loose and killed Tygo and destroyed the base. The able-bodied are pursuing--"

"*Dren*," Nerri spat. "Try to get them back. Tell them under *no circumstances* are they to hurt or kill those Eleemosynaries. Dren!"

"Nerri?" the woman asked. "What's going on?"

What was going on was the Resistance had managed the one Eleemosynary kidnapping with potentially catastrophic consequences. Ksenia didn't think Dee's father was actually going to destroy any planets, but that left a lot of room for retribution.

Nerri took two steps away from the vehicle and stopped. "All right, we should probably just go there in person. Get a team ready to go, this is -- no, you focus on trying to get them on the comm and tell them to *stand down*. Inek! Get a team together at Rishor's ship!"

Ksenia stared after him for a moment. "Why am I not surprised that your sister escaped and destroyed their base?"

"Because you've never fallen for Zee's attempts to convince everyone she's the nice, peaceful one?"

"Your sister?" asked the woman in the mobile command center. "Are there Sykarans in-- What's going on?"

Dee opened his mouth, then closed it. He shook his head. "Frell this. I'm not Sykaran, I'm John Crichton's son. Your buddies kidnapped John Crichton's daughter. Guess what. My family's mad." He jogged off after Nerri.

Ksenia took a moment to make sure the Nebari wasn't hyperventilating. "Uh, while Dee apparently doesn't care who knows, I suspect Nerri would rather you didn't tell everyone just yet. Or not. Ask him."

She ran back towards Rishor's ship.

#####

Unfortunately, all the ground vehicles were parked near the garage where all the Nebari smegheads were. Fortunately, they did have the element of surprise, and by the time the main doors opened and someone yelled an alarm, Orek had the vehicle powered up. Renyr jammed the accelerator, and the vehicle leapt forward, tires squealing, sending up a cloud of dust behind it.

//Is that going to explode, too?// Zhaan wondered spacily, then shook herself, and crawled to the back of the vehicle. They grabbed the first one that looked big enough, and it was some sort of open-top agricultural wagon thing, which would be more of a bad choice if she wasn't pretty sure the closed-back vehicles were flimsy enough to shoot right through. Speed should be a higher priority... but then she wasn't sure how fast anything was going to get on this kind of surface.

Whatever. She joined Tacer in firing back at their pursuers -- actually, Tacer seemed to be targeting the other ground vehicles.

"Think you can disable them?" Zhaan asked.

"With this weapon, at this range, slow them down at best unless one of them has a flammable fuel supply."

*Boom*

"And I guess that one had a flammable fuel supply."

"Great, *more* fire," Nach said.

Zhaan took her eyes off her targets long enough to look around. The building was still smoking, especially the end where the fertilizer storage had been, but apparently it was mostly made of nonflammable materials. The building was, however, surrounded by crops that hadn't been irrigated since the farmers went nuts and the automated systems imploded. So, yes, there were some fires.

Some spreading fires.

"Are those going to cut us off?" she called up to whoever was driving. (Orek, Renyr, and Agnola were all hanging on to some part of the controls and shouting at each other.)

"Cut us off from *what*, we don't know where we're *going*--"

"Heads down, they're about to start shooting!" Tacer barked.

"Just keep going!" Zhaan yelled. //Run and don't look back. Run and don't look back. I guess looking back to return fire is acceptable. Run and don't look back. Please, Goddess, let me not be getting everyone killed.//

There were at least two vehicles chasing after them now. What would it take to make them give *up*? They didn't have anywhere to run to, nowhere they knew how to reach--

"Ship!" Nach shouted as something flew over them, close enough to feel the wind of its passing. "Zhaan, is that--"

A Leviathan transport pod. "Yes!"

"Make for the ship! Make for the ship! Don't run *into* the ship!"

It looked like the transport pod came in for a hard landing, but not as hard as the ground vehicle getting one wheel in a trench and jolting like Dee's old all-terrain rover going over a jump. Dee had gone flying. They went flying, too, and the landing in the dry crops wasn't going to do them any favors, with all the injuries they had already, but the pod was right there, and the hatch was opening and--

"*Dad*," Zhaan half-sobbed, lurching into a hug like she was nine instead of nineteen.

"We're here, princess, it's going to be okay," he said, and swung her around toward the hatch. "Eleemosynaries and friends, if you would join us on run-like-hell airlines--"

It was going to take a few microts to get everyone off the ground and into the pod, so Zhaan went for the weapons locker, not even glancing towards the control compartment. Pulse pistol, pulse pistol, pulse rifle -- *big* pulse rifle. She heaved it up and stumbled back to the hatch just as Tacer was helping Gervis in. Nach and Fedele were trying to untangle Orek, Renyr, and Agnola from each other and the single safety strap at the front of the vehicle. Her dad was watching the fires and the approaching Nebari, who must not have a good angle now because of the tipped vehicle.

Her dad saw her, and did a double-take. "Zee?"

"I lost my pulse pistol," she said, and somehow her voice was steady, though her hands weren't as she wrestled the rifle onto her shoulder. Good thing this wasn't a weapon for pinpoint shooting. "If they touch us again, I'm going to kill them all." She aimed over the top of their vehicle and fired. She wasn't sure if she hit anything, but the pursuit was in that direction, anyway.

"And there's another fire," her dad muttered. "Come on, everyone in, I'd rather not find out if they have anything heavy-duty enough to damage the pod -- you, too, Zee--"

She blinked. When had the others boarded? But Nach and her dad were pulling her in and Tacer was taking the pulse rifle as the hatch closed.

"All aboard!" her dad yelled. "Everyone hang on, we're going up fast!"

Zhaan wasn't sure anyone actually hung on. It felt like everyone ended up in a heap. Was it bumpier than a rough take-off should be? Were Tygo's people shooting at them? Did-- "Nach, you're bleeding."

Nach looked down at her own arm, blinking in surprise. "Huh. When did that happen?"

"I'll get the medkit," Zhaan announced, swaying to her feet, only to find her dad handing said medkit to Renyr. "Oh."

He hugged her again, and she buried her face in his leather jacket, and held on tight.

#####

Zee had clearly been pushed right over the edge and was operating somewhere on the other side -- John knew the feeling. All he wanted to do was take her back to Moya and get on with the grounded-until-age-forty. But they weren't home yet.

"We'll be right up front," he said to a Banik kid who seemed to be more or less paying attention to him. "C'mon, Zee, I'll take over flying so you can say hi to Mom, okay?"

Aeryn turned in her seat as they entered the control compartment. Her expression when she saw Zee was -- complicated, but mostly relief. "Nothing in the air after us, but they hit us with something hard enough I want to do a check before we risk vacuum or even low pressure." She slid out of the way, and John took control of the pod.

"Back to Chiana's camp long enough to fix it?"

"I think so." Aeryn paused. "Oh, Zhaan."

"*Mom*."

"I'm very glad to see you alive."

Zee hiccuped. "I lost my pulse pistol. Actually I overloaded my pulse pistol to explode the silo. I don't like the Nebari guns very much. They have a lot of different kinds."

"I'm so proud of you, Zhaan."

"I told them Commandant Darth Vader was plotting against them. I shouldn't have said anything. It wasn't true."

"I am so proud of you."

Instruments squealed abruptly as a dark blur passed them and resolved into a very rattletrap ship. John was very proud of how little the pod jolted.

The comm crackled a moment later. "Mom? Dad? Is that you?"

John blinked. "Dee? What the hell are you doing here?"

"I'm, uh, inbound with Ksenia, Ksenia's brother, and, uh, the brother of an old friend of yours who has some useful connections -- he says they're here -- you?"

"Outbound with your sister and her friends. She's alive."

Dee's sigh of relief was clear even over the comm. "Good. That's good. We got here as fast as we could -- the Sykaran idea of hurrying seems to involve tapping the hetch drive in-atmosphere--"

"In *that* ship?"

"I know, I know -- look, I think we're still going in so your friend's brother can try to get things sorted out. If you've got Zee me and Kess will stay on the ship out of the way--"

Zhaan sniffled, and croaked, "If you see a guy named Tygo, *shoot him in the face*."

"Zee!"

"And. And you ask them why they beat up their own people. *Ask them* what they did to *Agnola*. Let them burn--"

"Look, we'll get back to you shortly," John interrupted. "We have some other good news, which might also be of interest to, uh, the brother of an old friend of ours." Nerri? Seriously? And since when did Ksenia have family she was speaking to? "You two *be careful*."

"We will. I love you, Zee -- good to hear your voice."

"In the face," Zee mumbled. She raised her head. "But Dee won't run into Tygo, because I kicked him in the head and left him next to the fertilizer storage before I blew it up."

"That's the fourth-best thing I've heard all day," someone said from the doorway -- John looked long enough to see it was the kid with the colorful face and striped hair. "The first three are that the ship is friendly, that you did get loose, and the sound of stuff blowing up. So, Zhaan's parents are exactly who I thought they were. All right. Most people call me the Fahrbot Orderly, but my name's Tacer Rezmarev, and, uh, I'm what you're probably thinking I am."

"I can't say I was thinking you were anything," John said.

"I only got his first name," Zhaan mumbled.

"I know what you mean -- I'll explain later," Aeryn said.

The kid continued, "What's going on now? Is there anything I can do to help?"

Aeryn paused for a moment, then spoke. "Zhaan's brother just arrived with someone fairly highly placed in the Resistance. He -- not Zhaan's brother -- is presumably going to try to get things under control. We took some damage, so we're going to set down at a nearby glebe control center for repairs. There are Nebari there, but they are friendly. The most helpful thing you can do right now is make sure emergency aid has been rendered, get people to strap in, and try to keep them from panicking when we land."

"I will try -- but Nach may be up here as soon as Orek lets her get up, she feels like she's in charge. In a taking responsibility way."

After the kid -- Tacer -- moved away, Zhaan raised her head. (They had enough altitude now John didn't have to keep his eyes locked in front of him.) "Did -- were you saying -- implying, whatever -- you found Aunt Chiana?"

"We did. Pure blind luck."

"Well, luck and taking a second look at the place they landed a Zenetan ship on the enemy forces," John qualified.

Zhaan was quiet for a moment. "Blowing them up with a silo is cooler." There was a tiny smile in her voice.

So, yes, the explosion had been Zee. "Yeah, it is."

#####

The ship set down with a bone-rattling jolt, but nothing worse than what they'd had en route. D'Argo tried to unclench his fingers from the grab bar as the noise subsided. "I don't know if anyone else could hear my comms, but that transport pod taking off was my parents. They have my sister and the other Eleemosynaries. Zee's--" Zee wasn't *fine*, not with how she'd been talking. Zee wasn't supposed to sound like that. "She's alive. And talking. I don't know how badly the other Eleemosynaries are hurt."

Nerri closed his eyes for a moment, obviously relieved. "Good. That's -- good. As long as they're not here."

"I don't think it's a good idea for anybody to be here very long," Rishor said. "That fire looks like it's just getting started."

"I'm going to take my team out and make contact, try to find who's in charge." Nerri was already heading back towards the hold. "See how many people there are -- we may want to evacuate them..."

Ksenia squeezed up to look out the little window. "Yeah, that's not good. I hate fires."

D'Argo paused. "Does a fire in a field of tannot root come with explosions?"

She shook her head. "Pre-processed. No. It comes with smoke that makes people high."

"It's not *that* bad unless you get enough that smoke inhalation would be a problem anyway," Rishor objected.

"And then they have to be told to get out of the smoke, or they'll stand there wheezing and blissing out until they fall over dead."

"...All right, that's true." Rishor stood up. "I need to go organize a guard on the hatch so we don't get any uninvited Nebari. Stay here, Ksenia?"

And then it was just the two of them. D'Argo sighed, and joined Ksenia at the window. The fires were definitely spreading, but-- "I can't say I'm feeling very enthusiastic about evacuating these particular Nebari. You were sitting next to me -- could you hear Zee?"

"Some of it. She... didn't sound like herself."

"She sounded like -- she sounded like a slightly unhinged *survivor*, and I don't want to help the people she had to survive." D'Argo leaned his forehead against the window. "The good thing is, I'm pretty sure the one she said to shoot in the face is the same one that was already confirmed dead."

He could see Nerri and his team now, outside the ship, interacting with some Nebari who'd emerged from the trampled fields or the smoldering building. There was a lot of arm-waving, but no gun-waving, which was good. He guessed. He wondered if the kidnapper-cell was asking why Nerri had been generically disapproving of their hostage-taking before but was freaking the frell out now. He supposed they'd find out sooner or later -- probably sooner, since D'Argo had blabbed to that woman back at the rendezvous.

As more Nebari from the kidnapper-cell gathered around the ship, the arm-waving began to turn into finger-pointing -- between the kidnappers. One of them actually *did* start to pull a gun, and one of Nerri's people jumped in to push them apart. "Well, that's interesting. Hmm, I don't think Nerri was expecting that. I think... definitely at least two factions and some undecideds?"

Ksenia's face twisted. "Oh. I think I know what's going on."

"Yeah?"

"Notice how one faction seems to have most of the women, and the other one seems to be all male? 'Ask them what they did to Agnola.' Those will be the rapists and the ones who've decided rape is unacceptable, and the rest didn't participate but aren't ready to shoot people over it."

"Oh." //If they *touched* Zee, I will castrate them with their own teeth.// D'Argo pressed his forehead against the window. "Do we have to save them all from the fire? I don't think we should have to."

"We could ask Rishor to not let some of them board. He might go for it."

Before D'Argo could decide how to answer that, his comm came to life. "D'Argo?"

"Pilot, hi! Did Mom and Dad tell you--"

"That they recovered young Zhaan, yes," Pilot finished. "And located Chiana."

"Do you know how Zhaan is? We were only on the comm for a little while, and the ship was *really* noisy..."

"She is not seriously hurt," Pilot said after a moment. "But she seems very shaken. All the hostages taken with her are also still alive, and should recover."

"I'm glad." He'd never met any of Zhaan's friends in person, but he was the one who got to hear Zee's wilder stories of wacky intern hijinks, and Renyr and Nach were both familiar names. And the entire group had been out doing *good things* when they were taken.

"However, something has come up. I did not want to distract Crichton and Aeryn with probably-unnecessary worry, but..."

Ksenia put a hand over her eyes. "Please don't tell me Ry got away from Pax and is running loose somewhere in Moya's lower tiers."

"Ry seems to be getting a new tooth," Pilot said.

D'Argo winced. "Aw, poor kid. He always has trouble with that. I'm surprised we can't hear the screaming -- the neighbors complained, not that they had any room to talk--"

"You cannot hear the screaming because Pax decided she was not qualified to handle the situation, and convinced Ka Jothee to transport both her and Ry to the Eleemosynary encampment. They confirmed safe arrival, but..."

This time D'Argo banged his head against the window. "She *what*?"

"She is never babysitting again," Ksenia said. "No, she probably wants that. She is never getting left without a babysitter again."

"Right. She can keep Zhaan company for the twenty cycles she's grounded. Thanks, Pilot."

"We will be there as soon as we can, but it might take a little while," Ksenia said. "Did she even try to look for the teething toys?"

"And found some, but I'm afraid that's when Ry began demanding 'foze pudden' and refused to settle for anything less."

#####

The first thing Pax did after Jothee dropped her off was accost the nearest Eleemosynary and ask if they had any frozen puddings to calm down a teething, crying toddler. If she recalled correctly, Eleemosynaries usually had a supply of slow-melting, long-lasting ones to calm down little kids. Ry's howling was very motivating. One of the orderlies managed to find some, even though they were hardly essential supplies and apparently people had been raiding the stock fairly often for personal use.

"The Nebari kids don't seem that interested. Don't know why. But the supply keeps going down... where did you come from, anyway?"

Pax pointed up. "Orbit. I'm Zhaan's younger sister, this is our brother's kid, everyone left me babysitting, and he starts screaming."

"You'll probably want to see Healer Tash, then -- or I'm sure she'll want to see you when she finishes with her meeting.

She wasn't entirely averse to the idea of crashing the meeting, especially a meeting with Sikozu -- she'd brought a 'corder, and it would be fun to bring something back to the Institute to discuss -- but she held off because it might actually be a serious important medical meeting. Instead, she sat on a bench which had clearly been recently dragged into the hall, and watched various Eleemosynaries trying to get up the nerve to ask her something. Yeah, Zhaan's cover wasn't going to hold up much longer. Ry gnawed on his frozen pudding and drooled stickily into her hair, but she was happy with the lack of screaming.

It wasn't very long -- not quite an arn -- when the door banged open and Tash came out, walking swiftly down the hall with Sikozu on her heels. Pax jumped up and hurried after them.

"That was *not a threat*," Sikozu was saying. "It's a *fact* that a less stable situation is more dangerous to *everyone*--"

"The situation destabilized when the Royal Sebaceans destroyed an urban center. We are *well* aware it's more dangerous. If you think we're going to give up our best chance at recovering our people--"

"Healer Tash!" Pax said, and both of them stopped and turned.

"Oh, frell, it's you," Sikozu said.

"Pax, right?" Tash asked. "Ah, hello. I thought you were going to be staying on the ship?"

"I was," Pas replied matter-of-factly, "but Ry got a toothache and we didn't have any frozen pudding. So, here we are. Calmed him right down--"

Which of course was when Ry *shrieked* directly into her ear and flailed wildly, almost squirming out of her grasp. Both Tash and Sikozu were staring at something behind her, and she turned to see--

*Scorpius*, it could only be Scorpius.

With half-melted frozen pudding dripping off his face.

Pax did the only thing she could think of -- brought up her 'corder, took an image, and then ran like hell.

At least she'd accomplished something with her day.


	13. Rattle of Pebbles on the Shore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 12: Rattle of Pebbles on the Shore, in which there are reunions, recriminations, and returns.

Most of the rescued -- escaped? -- Eleemosynaries were staying in the transport pod, not that Chiana could blame them. Zhaan herself seemed to be sticking close to at least one of her parents, so if both Crichton and Aeryn were out of the pod, she was, too. A Nebari intern and a Banik orderly, apparently the least injured of the bunch, agreed to come take a look at their wounded. They didn't have any more supplies, but at least they had proper training. They were both... jumpy, though they relaxed a tiny bit once they were actually with the wounded.

"You, uh, you did a good job with the splints," the Nebari -- Renyr -- told Amata, looking up from Rossi's ankle. (Someone had not been properly strapped in during Surprise Attack One.) "And this is a pretty decent alexiteric, so if you use it to clean any open wounds you should avoid infections. But the person shot by Zenetans and the person trampled by degrols will probably both need delicate surgery I'm not really qualified for even if I had all the equipment, and some of the others have lost a lot of blood."

"Can you do a transfusion?" Amata asked.

"Person-to-person? Without a type-checker it's a risk. A big risk. Unless you know everyone's type?"

Which was when Gevi made the mistake of coming up behind the Banik intern -- Orek -- and grabbing his shoulder, and promptly got punched in the face and kicked in the crotch.

"Uh," Orek said. "Sorry."

"Could have happened to anyone," Chiana said briskly, waving a hand at Vieri before he could say anything. "We really appreciate your helping out. We'll see if we can get Ruber and Rilla transported somewhere for surgery. Did you want to grab any supplies? Not too much, but we can spare some." This time she waved at Amata to be quiet.

They did take some bandaging and alexiteric, and headed back out towards the pod.

Rossi looked after them. "Are we sure it was the Resistance that kidnapped them?" he asked, rather hopelessly.

Chiana knew she ought to be more upset about people calling themselves Resistance doing... whatever it was that had little Zee and her friends looking like that, but honestly she was still half-numb from an earlier conversation.

"I was really kind of hoping it was an outside attack," she'd said, about the Transmission. "Because it doesn't make any sense for the Establishment to do that, and that leaves the Resistance as best guess..."

Crichton had winced. "Well, some people in the Resistance, anyway. And obviously they thought it was going to do something else."

"...That sounds like more than a best guess."

"...We heard it from the courier."

And it was possible it was all an elaborate Establishment mind-frell to cover up their own mess, but... Chiana didn't think so. She needed to talk to Nerri.

And she was going to get a chance to. Very soon.

#####

Crichton Spawn #3 had run away and was hiding, which meant Sikozu "only" had to juggle Scorpius, Stark -- those two together were a problem even without the others -- Tash, Evek Egenek, Ka Jothee, some Banik relative of one of the abducted Eleemosynaries, and a frelling *Elite* who'd showed up out of nowhere and was apparently also related to one of the abducted Eleemosynaries. And all of them were talking at once.

Egenek, unfortunately, had picked up on the fact that the relatively unimportant Luxan kleevah knew something he didn't. Tash and Jothee had both tried to explain it was just due to Jothee having personal connections with the Eleemosynaries, but Egenek seemed determined to take it as a personal slight. The Banik relative kept trying to yell at Egenek for his lack of sympathy. Tash kept interrupting herself to add yet more parts of the building Scorpius was supposed to avoid, so he wouldn't upset the patients. Sikozu expected it was going to turn into Tash trying to throw him out of the building before another arn had passed. Stark was, of course, backing Tash up on everything she said to Scorpius, but kept going back to talking to the Elite. (She was not complaining about Stark distracting the Elite. The woman had been making noises about "taking steps" if her brother were not safely recovered very soon. The Elite hadn't ventured outside their territory in... ever, so Captain Estaver was almost certainly bluffing. Then again, Sikozu never would have anticipated Elite joining the Eleemosynaries or having siblings or coming to *look* for those siblings, so who knew.)

The Hynerians were being kept more-or-less updated by the Eleemosynaries, but some of the cleverer leaders of the other forces on-planet would be realizing something was happening shortly. Sikozu couldn't decide whether to expect the Interions and the Traoists before or after Tash tried to make Scorpius -- and probably everyone else apart from Stark and the relatives -- go away. Her best guess was Traoists before, Interions after.

Well, fine. She leaned forward and jogged Scorpius's elbow. "While the situation may be uniquely *volatile* at the moment, this is about the usual level of organization, and probably *better* cooperation. If I'm to be able to maintain any kind of order--"

When an Interion ran into the room, Sikozu thought she'd been wrong for a microt, but it was only the Eleemosynary computer specialist. She ignored all the shouting and ran straight to Tash. (Egenek managed to get himself in the way of a pointy little Interion elbow. Sikozu had no sympathy.)

"Tash!" the Interion cried, breathless. "Moya's Pilot just commed. They -- uh, Zhaan's parents -- have them, they're alive, and they're coming back!"

There was a microt of shared relief.

Tash snapped into action. She pointed at Scorpius. "You, out. Sikozu, you want to avoid problems, get him out of here before they get back. Egenek, out. Jothee, you can stay in the building but stay out of the way. Ilas, Captain Lashan, if you would stay with the Stykera, I have a lot of things to do."

#####

The Sykaran ship came down almost exactly opposite the building from the pod. It looked like it was in worse shape than the Zenetan ship, but it managed a much smoother landing. (In fairness to Palma, the Sykarans weren't trying to flatten anything.) The hatch opened, and a light-haired Sebacean -- no, Sykaran -- woman jumped out, followed by--

"Little D'Argo?" she said. Frell, the kid was growing up.

"Aunt Chiana!" He hurried over, and she accepted a hug. "It's good to see you safe. We were really worried."

"I can understand why."

"I'm hoping we can catch up again later -- we really can't hang around," Little D'Argo -- Dee -- said. "Rishor thinks the fire over in the other glebe is likely to spread in this direction, so you'll need to figure out how you're going to evacuate, and where to, and so on. We -- what the *frell* is that *stench*?"

"Degrols," Chiana replied. She looked off at the still-growing cloud of smoke. "Tell your parents I'm hoping they can take a few of my worst injured back to the Eleemosynary base?"

"Will do. Oh, uh -- this is Ksenia, my, uh, informal spouse? We have a son, Ry, who's at the Eleemosynary base right now, because Pax is insane--"

"Honor to meet you," Ksenia said.

And they were running off towards the transport pod. Chiana stared after them for a microt, then turned to Vieri as he came up beside her. "My godson has a narl."

"Your godson's a Sebacean?"

"Not exactly. Nerri!"

Her brother looked terrible, though she supposed she probably didn't look her best, either. "Chiana. Vieri. Is that ship functional?"

"The Zenetan pile of dren? More or less. It was before we landed it on a couple of ground vehicles, anyway. The transport pod's almost ready to go, I'm just hoping to get them to take some of our wounded--"

Nerri nodded, eyes narrowed. "So it might not go very *far*. All right, we can work with that. Vieri, you want to start getting people ready to go?" Vieri sketched a salute and headed back into the control center. "I'm thinking I'll switch my current group to the Zenetan ship and get out of the path of the fire, and the Sykarans can take a refugee group to the Eleemosynary base, since that's farther away."

"Makes sense. We have eleven out-and-out civilians from the next glebe over, and some friends-and-family -- although some people might want to go *with* their friends or family--"

Nerri took a deep breath. "I want you to take your whole group to the Eleemosynary base."

"...What?"

"Come on, I want to see if degrol runs are as chewed up as I remember."

Meaning, they should walk somewhere where no one was likely to overhear. Fine. "Look, just -- let's help take Ruber and Rilla to the pod and we can hang around out there after it takes off."

She barely had a chance to wave to Crichton and Aeryn again. Frelling responsibility. When the pod was gone, she pointed the other stretcher-bearers back to the control center and turned to her brother. "Nerri, what is going on?" she hissed.

"Chiana-- Look. Right now, there are two different things that need to be done for our people's future. One of those things is destroying the remnants of the Establishment and driving off predators like the Zenetans, or the Charrids -- anyone who comes to smash and grab."

"All right..."

"The other thing is *rebuilding*. Almost everything is broken right now. There's a chance to fix it *better*, and there are chances to fix it into something almost as bad, involving... Scarrans, or whatever. Rebuilding the right way needs good people, clever people, people who know how to work with aliens and our own civilians."

"The Resistance--"

"And rebuilding is going to take *not the Resistance*."

"What does that mean?"

"It means sooner or later, information is going to get out which will destroy our credibility as anything but... destroyers. It may not be right away--"

"Is this about the Transmission?" she asked, getting it. "No one knows that was the Resistance except Crichton, Aeryn, Sikozu, and some Eleemosynaries."

Nerri winced. "I... hadn't realized anyone outside the Resistance knew for sure. Sooner, then. That's too many people to keep a secret, even if everyone on the Resistance end could keep their mouth shut, which I'm sure they *can't*. Word will get out, and then no Nebari will trust the Resistance to do *anything*."

"It's not like we meant to--"

"We need to have our best potential rebuilders detached from the Resistance before that happens. The nasty, bloody part of the Resistance can keep doing its job -- destroying the Establishment. We don't need credibility for that. So, your techies, your innovators, your hopeful kids, your people with families and futures -- you're going to take them out of here, hang around near the Eleemosynaries if necessary, and look *forward*."

Chiana folded her arms. "I am not a techie, an innovator, or a hopeful kid."

"You're my little sister and I'm indulging myself." He tilted his head toward the Sykaran ship. "Whatever you're doing, we need to get Tygo's cell transferred to the Zenetan ship."

"Is Tygo the one who had the bright idea to go after medics? Can I talk to him about that?"

"Yes, and no, because somebody blew him up."

#####

It was clear before they landed that the Eleemosynary encampment was in an uproar. Not a little of the uproar had spilled out onto the landing pad. Fortunately, there were a couple of people out keeping the onlookers away from places people might actually want to *land*.

"Looks like Stark's here," her dad said, nodding towards a Nron shuttlecraft. "And Jothee or somebody flying a Luxan ship. I don't recognize that one -- is it armed?"

"It looks like an Elite small transport, and yes," Mom replied. "They're almost never seen outside their space, but one of them is apparently an orderly, so I assume this is related."

"Huh." Dad scanned the crowd. "I do not see Pax."

"So. Much. Trouble," Dee muttered.

Looking out at the confusion, Zhaan found herself hugging her mom's coat more closely about herself. She stopped as soon as she realized, but she'd already been noticed.

"Hey, you don't have to get out, Zee," Dad said. "We can get your friends safe inside, get Pax and Ry, and then go right back to Moya."

Zhaan shook her head. "No."

"If you're sure."

"Completely." Zhaan squinted out at the landing platform. "Here comes Tash with some gurneys. We'd better get organized."

There was some confusion over who had to ride inside on a gurney, apart from Chiana's seriously wounded, who got wheeled off straight away. But the rest of them -- well, they'd *all* been running around during the escape, mere arns ago. So, yes, Tacer had been shot, and Nach had been shot, and Zhaan had head injuries, and Gervis had been out for days and was still weak, and Fedele and Agnola had been beaten unconscious, and they'd *all* been in a ground vehicle that fell over, and finally Tash put her foot down and insisted everyone ride a gurney, even Orek and Renyr.

When they were trying to strap her safely to the gurney, Zhaan inexplicably flipped out and almost kicked Palad in the face. "Sorry, sorry," she said quickly. Frell, she *knew* this was a perfectly routine safety thing to keep from dumping patients. It was nothing like being held prisoner. "Uh..."

Tash looked from Zhaan to her parents. "Why don't you just hang on to the gurney long enough to get inside?"

Baben was just inside, his expression a complicated mixture of relieved and guilty. He led the way to the side, avoiding the refugees, right to the lift to the floor used for treatment, and went up with the first group. They had to have at least two groups, because everyone was on gurneys *and* Zhaan had some persistent family members.

"You guys, *all* of you?" she protested.

"I'm not following you, Zee, I'm waiting for a chance to ask Healer Tash where Pax and Ry are."

"My office," Tash said. "She's been hiding in there since -- well, I'll let her explain. Would someone show these two to my office, please?"

D'Argo patted her shoulder. "We'll catch up soon." Then he and Ksenia were following Heliotaney away.

When Zhaan turned to look at her parents, Aeryn shook her head. "We're not going anywhere."

Possibly she should have felt embarrassed, but mostly she was relieved.

When they got to the treatment floor Stark was there, and a Banik man who went straight to Orek. There was also a person of indeterminate species wearing an unidentifiable blue uniform. The hair matched Tacer's almost exactly, though.

"Uh," Tacer said. "I'm really mostly recovered?"

"They can check you over, and Zhiv gave me a handheld diagnostic."

Tash turned to Renyr. "Your mother couldn't come, but she's been very concerned and Heliotaney will be sending word you're safe."

Zhaan had to wait her turn to be examined, since they didn't have unlimited medics and some of them must be busy elsewhere. It wasn't like she needed treatment urgently. She hurt, sure, but more than anything else she was exhausted. And her feet itched.

"Oh, hey, I can take those off now," she blurted.

"Zee?" Dad said.

Zhaan fumbled with her boot fastenings. "There should be biohazard disposal around somewhere, just throw these right in there, I don't want them any more." She got rid of the boots and socks, and, yeah, the smell was as bad as she remembered. She tucked her feet under the sheet on the examining table to keep them out of any drafts. "I'm going to sleep now."

#####

Aeryn could almost see the layers of tension melting off Zhaan as she took in familiar people, familiar surroundings, a familiar situation, even if she wasn't usually the patient. Consequently she wasn't very surprised when Zhaan slumped against John's shoulder and fell asleep.

"She's wiped out," John said quietly, stroking Zhaan's filthy hair.

"It's good that she's calm enough to sleep."

Zhaan was partially awake for most of her physical examination, but sleepily authorized the medic to "just tell Mom'n'Dad everything" as she was being ushered away for a shower.

"Staying in a blinear glebe -- one of the granaries -- without washing is apparently inviting a mild fungal infection," the medic explained. "It's usually not serious, but we want to make sure it's not getting into open wounds or taking advantage of their weakened conditions. Orek said they were is close proximity to harvested grain--"

"They shut us in a *silo*!" the Fahrbot Orderly called, half sitting up. His probable relative pushed him back down.

Zhaan had numerous scratches and bruises; several head injuries, one of which was a concussion; evidence of fluid in her lungs; hunger; mild dehydration; and fungus on her feet and in her upper respiratory tract.

Everything would heal. Physically.

D'Argo arrived, with Pax but without Ksenia or Ry. "Ry was pretty fussy, so Ksenia's going to try to get him calmed down before bringing him in where injured people are trying to sleep."

"Is he all right?"

"He doesn't think so -- but yeah, it's just teething." He glared at Pax. "So do *not* try to tell me you thought it was a medical emergency. Pilot said it was teething, you've *seen* Ry teething and this looks pretty typical, so don't tell me you had to come here because you thought Ry was sick."

"This was perfectly safe!" Pax hissed back. "I got Jothee to transport us, and we haven't left the building."

Aeryn raised an eyebrow. "That still doesn't explain why you thought it was a good idea."

"Where's Zhaan? Can I see her?"

"Yes, but we will be talking about this later."

"Uh-huh. Hey, did anyone tell you Scorpius is on the planet? He was here, but I think Stark threw him out of the building, or Healer Tash did."

"Frell," John muttered. "Yeah, I'll talk to Stark about that, you're not getting out of this that easily."

"Ry threw frozen pudding at him," Pax offered, sounding hopeful.

D'Argo made an outraged noise. "You took *Ry* near Scorpius?"

"Not on purpose! And I stayed out of his way-- I got a picture?"

John rolled his eyes. "Come on, Zhaan's room -- alcove -- is this way."

The room was long, but not terribly wide, and its walls were lined with sizable alcoves, each one with enough room for two cots, or one and some chairs. Curtains had been rigged up in front of many of them to provide some amount of privacy for the patients.

"I don't know," Pax said, looking at the blanket bolted to the top of the entry to Zhaan's alcove. "I'd think if the Nebari cared enough to give their patients private alcoves, they could both to put in their own curtain."

The nearest Eleemosynary -- Palad, Aeryn thought -- shook her head. "Oh, no, this wasn't medical space. If it was, we wouldn't have to have so many cables and hoses all over the floor. Most of the designated medical space we found was... heavily damaged. We don't know whether it was because so much medical equipment can be dangerous when misused, or because there were likely more people unable to run away... Well, we scavenge there, but we have not set up operations. This was... something else."

"Looks like it might have been a clothing distribution center," Chiana said, making both Palad and John jump. "From the signs, anyway. Stark said I should come on down… up… down from where Stark is." She looked at D'Argo. "Your brother-in-law has landed on the roof, by the way. My people are being ferried down by hadesopter, since reportedly the lifts that high up don't work."

Before D'Argo could reply, Pax moved in for a hug. "I'm glad you're okay."

"Me, too -- what are you doing here? I thought you were on Moya."

"Don't you start."

Chiana patted Pax on the head, ignored the snarl this got her, and took a few steps towards the cot. "How is she?"

"Resting," Aeryn replied. "She'll recover."

"Good, that's good." Chiana rubbed her eyes. "Look, I think someone's about to drag me off for an exam, and then I need to make sure my people are settling in, but I'll catch you guys later. We need to talk."

"Of course."

Chiana ducked out. Pax hopped up on the end of Zhaan's cot.

"She looks awful."

"She'll recover," Aeryn said.

"Damn right she will," John said. "We're tough."


	14. Epilogue: We Will Never Surrender

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue: We Will Never Surrender, in which there are several conversations about the future.

Despite all John's resolutions to stay calm, he was on the verge of asking Pilot to track Zee's comms when one of the Eleemosynaries finally pointed him the in the right direction -- up. Zee was sitting on a stair landing two floors up from the highest place the Eleemosynaries were using, looking out the window.

John sat down on the stairs going up from the landing, catching his breath. "That's a lot of stairs."

"We came down about all of them when we were clearing the building," Zee replied. "Our team started on the roof. It was -- it was ugly. There were so many-- Most of the bodies have been destroyed, now, at least around anywhere someone's trying to use. There are still these -- piles of corpses, sometimes, but that's better than the ones lying where they killed each other." She leaned her forehead against the window. "I'm trying to remember that, for all the survivors. Their civilization died right in front of them, and it died *nasty*. Anyone would be messed up after that."

"That's true..."

Zee took a deep breath. "I keep thinking. I keep thinking, Dee and Ksenia had found Nerri. He knew who had us. He could have made them give us back, without anyone else getting hurt. And it didn't work out that way because *I* snapped and couldn't handle it any more and blew up a building instead. And people died and the frelling glebe caught fire. And then they chased us and there was a firefight -- in the fire -- and more people died."

"Aw, Zee--"

"And I'm *not sorry*. I *should* be, I should be sorry people died when they didn't have to, Resistance members who were basically misguided and frelled up because their world tore itself apart, but I'm glad Tygo is dead and I'm glad I did it. And I don't much care about the rest of them, either. What does that make me?"

Oh. This. John sighed, and pulled her into a one-armed hug. "I'd say it makes you human, kiddo, but I'm pretty sure it's not limited to humans."

"I'm supposed to be understanding," Zee mumbled into his shoulder. "I'm supposed to have compassion for all."

"So you ran a little low."

"I blew him up and I'm glad I did."

"Saved me and your mom the trouble." Important Resistence member or not, Tygo had *tortured Zhaan*, for no better reason than looking Sebacean. John might have to deal with Scorpius and tolerate Grayza's existence, but he had limits.

Zee's thoughts had apparently gone in the same direction. "I don't know how you can stand seeing Scorpius."

"Desensitization."

"I never understood how hard it must be. I knew you hated him, because he'd done bad things, but..."

"It gets -- sort of easier." But Tygo was dead, and Zhaan would never have to learn that particular lesson. //Not about the leader, anyway.//

"I'll be happy if 'Resistance' stops leaving a bad taste in my mouth," Zee confessed. "I really tried not to let them -- *taint* it, but-- I don't know."

"Honestly, Zee, if you're avoiding having a reaction just at *Nebari* you're doing better than a lot of people would."

"That'd just be stupid." She moved back to the window and leaned against it.

"We looking at anything in particular, kiddo?"

"There are some -- intermediately affected Nebari in the next building over, or there were. I'm trying to figure out if they're still there. Doctor Entellias wanted to get one of them in for a thorough scan, to try to figure out what exactly the damage is and if it can be reversed. Even if they're... regressed for good, they seem to have some -- relatively -- normal kids with them. Someone's going to have to figure out what to do about that."

Yeah, he didn't envy that person. John looked, but didn't see any movement in the next building. Zee's eyesight was better, though, so-- "Anything?"

"Not right now." She took a deep breath. "There are so many people here, who need so much help."

Oh. "You want to stay," John said.

"I want to stay. Well, I *want* to go hide under my bed for a cycle, but what I need -- not need, exactly -- yes. I want to stay, even though I also want to hide under my bed." She looked sideways at him. "Are you going to freak out?"

"I haven't decided yet." Dammit, nineteen was *not* old enough for this. "Have you talked to your mother about this?"

"Not... in so many words."

Which helped explain why Aeryn had spent the last day and a half coming up with security measures for the Eleemosynaries and persuading them to adopt them. Well, she could just be doing it because Stark was a friend and the Eleemosynaries were doing good work and deserved to be safer, but something about her relentlessness made him suspect *she* suspected Zee might be around a while longer. //Which means Aeryn is *not* dead-set against her staying.// John rubbed his eyes. "Zee... we're not going to carry you back to Moya tied in a sack." //Probably not.// "If you really want to keep with this, we can try to find a way to make it work. But you can't expect us to walk away like nothing happened, either."

"I don't think I want you to. No matter what Sikozu's whining about."

He shrugged. "Considering our history, I understand where she's coming from."

"Yeah, well, us getting kidnapped had nothing to do with you guys, and us getting out alive had everything to do with you guys," Zee said. "And Dee and Ksenia, and your knowing Chiana-- I was an *anti-liability*. *We* were an anti-liability."

"That's a nice change." John considered. "Although I still don't think Sputnik would agree with you."

#####

If Nerri had failed to show at the rendezvous, Chiana was fully prepared to scrap all her plans and track him down. He did *not* get to ditch her again. Fortunately, she found him right where he said he'd be, in the empty cooking shack of a Resistance hidey-hole in the undeveloped regions. Chiana glanced over her shoulder at the flurry of movement around the Sykaran ship, then closed the door.

"You might want to leave that open so you can see when they're getting ready to leave," Nerri said.

"It will be at least an arn, and," she smacked his shoulder, "don't just assume I'm going with them."

"Chiana--"

"I've been thinking about it, though, and you have a point. We need people to do more than just fight the Establishment, and sooner or later that's going to be really hard for the official Resistance."

She'd only realized she'd decided that when she found herself encouraging Rossi to spend more time with the Eleemosynaries' computer specialist, rather than work on Resistance-specific comms, because he didn't need to get any more into that mess. She only disagreed with Nerri when it came to what *she* should be doing.

"I know you want me to get off the planet, even out of Nebari space. Stark says Nron will be sponsoring scholarships for Nebari students at the Yondalao Institute of Diplomatic Education," Chiana said. "I feel a little *bad* about snatching one of the spots, but I can get it, no problem. I can use a fake name, establish a new identity, keep an eye on Pax, maybe even learn something. But I have conditions."

"Go on."

"You keep in contact with me. Pax and -- amazingly -- Zee are willing to hide my messages in their correspondence, so you would just have to discreetly contact Zhaan. If I don't hear from you, I catch the first ship coming back here."

"Anything else?"

"Yes. When I finish whatever education I'm going to get, I'm going to take it and my shiny new identity and come back here and work on... rebuilding, or whatever. You will *not* give me dren over it. And you *will* keep in contact with me, passing messages through the Eleemosynaries or Zhaan or Moya or *whatever*."

"Hanging around with Crichton isn't going to help establish a new identity--"

"I've thought of that. I'm going to be hanging around them because I'll be Pax's roommate."

Nerri looked like he wanted to argue, but couldn't think of a good approach. Finally, he sighed. "I just want to keep you safe, little sister."

"If Crichton and Aeryn can let Zee stay on here, you can send me messages and be okay with me coming back in a few cycles." She paused. "They may even leave her unaccompanied at some point. If she's very lucky."

#####

"Sun and Crichton are taking their youngest offspring back to Arnessk," Sikozu said. "Unfortunately, both the others are still here, *and* the mate and the next generation, which I am going to blame on the Sykarans. The Elite captain is gone, but the Elite Eleemosynary is not, so I can't say that's decisively resolved, either."

"The Elite situation bears further monitoring," Scorpius agreed. "If they show any more signs of breaking their isolation, we can advise them to meet with the Eidolons."

"You're not worried about Crichton coming back?"

"If his offspring are here, and not in danger, he will try to keep a low profile. Be prepared to step in if anyone else tries to provoke them, but at this point Crichton is a known quantity. I am not overly concerned."

Privately, Sikozu thought Scorpius had seemed rather *concerned* when the infant threw food at him. "Fine. The Sykarans are playing dumb about their Resistance connections, but I had a few words with Chiana before she left with Crichton and Sun. *She* said that the Resistance was going to be targeting the remains of the Establishment, and we should stay out of the way and let them 'do their thing'."

"All offworlders, or you in particular?"

"All offworlders. I pointed out that the offworlders *started* relatively few of the conflicts with Nebari, but she just insisted the Resistance was... refocusing. Apparently the Eleemosynary incident is being trotted out as an example of what not to do."

Scorpius nodded. "Very well. We'll give them a chance."

"A chance to..."

"Get their attention back on the Establishment. Let the Resistance and the Establishment kill each other, and don't antagonize civilian survivors--"

"--And we'll see what's left when the fire dies down."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we have it. I'm not sure if or when I'll be returning to this 'verse, so if you have any unanswered questions, ask them and I'll tell you if I know the answer.


End file.
